


Holly and Mistletoe

by ReasonsLost



Category: Tomb Raider & Related Fandoms, Tomb Raider (Video Game)
Genre: Christmas, Cute, Domestic Fluff, F/F, Femslash, Fluff, Friendship, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-26
Updated: 2016-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-09 11:32:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5538290
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReasonsLost/pseuds/ReasonsLost
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lara and Sam spend Christmas together at university, and explore their feelings a bit along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Lovely Little Mistakes

**Author's Note:**

> This story has gotten to be longer than I initially planned. Updates will continue into the winter.

“Lara!” Sam called through their shared flat. “Lara, come check this out”, it was the three days until Christmas, and she had just finished decking the halls, as it were. With her hands on her hips and her chin held high she beamed with pride. When no immediate response came from her roomie her expression dipped for just a moment, but she put it back into place and waited for a full minute. She beamed until her face hurt, and then dropped her arms to her sides in disappointment, and began walking to Lara’s room.

Lara’s door was unlocked. Sam knew it was always unlocked, but it still made her smile that someone as private as Lara never locked her out, especially since she was so prone to barging in as she was doing just then. She pushed open Lara’s door and spread her arms above her shoulders, ready to yell ‘Merry Christmas!’, but her breath fell out of her mouth near silently. She closed her arms back around herself and gave a small sigh.

Lara was asleep, scattered across her neatly made bed with her laptop beside her legs. Her nose had taken on a rosy red colour, and her lips were slightly parted. Sam decided that Lara must have a cold if she was breathing through her mouth. She shook her head, Lara had run herself ragged with finals and shopping, it was no wonder she was sick. 

Sam was very careful to make as little noise as possible as she closed Lara’s laptop and moved it to her end table. It surprised her that Lara didn’t wake up, light sleeper that she was. Still, she felt like it was good that her roomie got some rest. It also meant the only way to tuck her under the blankets was to awkwardly unmake her bed and fold the covers over her, though. She didn't mind, and she circled the bed, expertly undoing Lara's meticulously tidy bedwork. 

Properly swaddled in blankets, Lara looked a lot more comfortable, and Sam felt herself smiling. Not the exaggerated, self-aggrandizing expression she’d worn to present their newly decorated apartment, but a legitimate, involuntary smile that put warmth in her cheeks and made her stomach feel light. It took her a few moments of fighting against the gentle happiness, but she managed to move herself from that spot, switch off Lara’s light, and close the door.

Sam crashed down on the couch in the glow of the blinking lights she’d littered their living room with. She could wait, she decided, and began flipping through her phone to amuse herself.

Not an hour later her patience paid off. She heard Lara’s door creak open, pocketed her phone, and sprang to her feet. Tired as she’d grown on the couch she put on her best performance. Wide grin, theatrically spread arms, and pride on her face. Lara stopped in the entrance to the hallway, she still had her blanket wrapped around herself while she looked around the room with a bit of confusion.

Sam made a flourish with her hand, rotating it around her wrist as she folded her arm to her waist and took a bow. She was still bent at the middle when she lifted her eyes to look into Lara’s. They shared a gaze for several moments, and smiles crept into their lips and their eyes.

“Well...?”, Sam’s voice stopped just short of steady, and she pulled her bottom lip back between her teeth.

If Lara had noticed Sam was nervous, she didn’t show it. She pulled her blanket tightly around her shoulders and gave the room a long look. Her head turned slowly on her neck to look from the corner where Sam had set up a small tree, to the red ribbon that hung across the wall from above the tree to the opposite corner. Christmas lights outlined the ceiling, perched neatly at the top of the wall to encircle the whole room. Sam had even hung socks. One of Lara’s, a plain and lengthy black tube of sturdy cotton, and one of Sam’s, an ankle length bit of striped fabric Sam doubted Lara could fit any gifts in. The look on her face said she was going to try though.

“You’ve done a lovely job”, Lara replied at length, her stuffy nose lowered her voice just a touch. Sam finally stood up straight, and breathed audibly. She looked at Lara appreciatively, the twinkling lights that dimly lit the room cast alternating shadows across her face that helped to accentuate the sharpness of her features and the pout of her lips. Sam shook the thoughts out of her head.

“Thanks” she murmured and placed her hands on the edges of Lara's blanket. For a moment she almost stepped in closer, but she remembered that there was more she wanted to show her friend. She flashed Lara a look of excitement as she bounded back to where the carpet of the living room gave way to the tiles of the kitchen. “Tea?” she asked with a smile she usually reserved for when she was trying to get Lara's goat.

“Sam...”, she began as she came close, “what are you planning?” Sam's answer was to reach inside Lara's shell of blanket and hitch her hands on her hips. She stepped in close to Lara and linked her hands behind her back, cutting off escape. Close as they were, their noses nearly touched. The tips of Lara's ears burned and her cheeks pinked to match her nose. She wasn't unused to this sort of closeness with Sam, but this lacked the casual, comfortable ease she usually handled it with. Sam held her gaze, and her eyes hunted between Lara's. They moved quickly back and forth for permission for this closeness. Sam was unsure of herself, and Lara must have noticed because she wrapped her blanket around Sam protectively.

“Look up”, Sam breathed, drawing courage from the embrace. That sent a tremor through Lara that Sam could feel; it did nothing to lessen her anxiety when Lara's face lifted out of her view to look above them. On the kitchen side of the top of the doorway Sam had hidden a plant with red berries and long, pointed leaves. All tied up with a red ribbon. Sam's plan must have dawned on Lara, because when she lowered her chin and made eye contact she was grinning widely. Unsure whether Lara was happy or just thought it was funny, Sam began searching her face again for some sign one way or the other. Lara's grin seemed genuine so she took the risk, she leaned in. Lara accepted the advance and met Sam, with her cheek. Sam stiffened in her arms, she suddenly felt the need to pull away; but Lara spoke into her neatly presented ear.

“Sam, that's  _holly_ , love. Mistletoe is white”, she pulled back once she'd said this, but let her skin glide over her friend's soft lips. Sam was doing her best not to think about how nice that felt, instead focusing on her embarrassment. She aimed her eyes determinedly at the floor, and her cheeks burned. “I've got a cold, anyway”, Lara added mercifully, and they relaxed into a close hug. Sam finally looked at her, and gave her a weak smile, Lara returned it and touched their noses together again briefly. “I was promised tea”, she reminded. Sam chuckled and stepped away to heat the kettle. The sigh that she gave without thinking went unacknowledged, for which she was grateful.

Lara sat at the table, leaned back, and made herself cosy in her blanket. Sam found herself missing Lara's warmth, and the closeness they'd shared a moment ago in that very blanket. It was an adventurous sort of closeness, and her heart was still throbbing. She distracted herself by running the water slowly to fill the kettle, giving herself more time before she had to turn to face Lara again. Eventually the kettle was full, and she had no choice but to put on a brave face and confront her friend once more.

“So. Lovely?”, Sam had finished filling the kettle and crashed into her chair across from Lara, who started at her words as if Sam had said the exact wrong thing somehow.

“Wot?” Lara stammered, accent deepening into something more Northern from a mixture of sickness and fatigue. Sam looked at her with concern and began to strum her fingers together haphazardly. Lara's face had paled but for her nose, and she seemed distracted. Sam's confidence was quickly plummeting.

“You said the decorations, uh.. That I did a lovely job”, she stumbled through her explanation as best she could while trying to control her growing worry. Had she done that to Lara? Fear she'd overstepped a boundary was pooling in her stomach like liquid lead. They slipped into an uncomfortable silence while Lara, blank-faced, put her thoughts back in order.

“You did” Lara insisted once she'd recollected herself, “very lovely”, she indicated toward the living room with a tilt of her head and looked up toward the perched bit of holly with a subtle twitch to her lips. “Everything is lovely.”

Sam chewed the inside of her cheek and avoided eye contact, the weight pooling inside her abdomen slowly but perceptibly becoming more pronounced. “Sam?” she heard from across the table, and looked up. Lara was surveying her with a soft look on her eyes, as if she were treating a painful wound. It twisted Sam's insides up, it wasn't a look she wanted to see just then, but Lara wore compassion well. She wanted to be ashamed of what she'd done, but Lara wasn't going to let her. Sam swallowed her apology and tried her best to smile. It seemed to appease Lara, because she smiled too, and leaned back into her chair again.

The awkward quiet persisted, and Sam chose to fill it with action if she couldn't find any useful words. So, she stood and shifted her chair across the tile floor to where the kitchen and living room met. With a quick hop up onto the seat she pulled the tack that held the holly in place and dropped back down with both in hand. She nearly bumped into Lara, who had stood to follow her.

“Sam...” Lara said, “I was fond of the holly.”

“I meant to put up mistletoe”, Sam replied with an overcast expression. She lifted her eyes to Lara's for just a moment before dropping them again. She knew from Lara's eyes that she could see that she was hurting. They were gentle and set on Sam's own, looking clear past the mask she hid her anxiety behind. “I'm sorry, that was st-”

“I'd have been fond of mistletoe, too” Lara interrupted. Sam was suddenly looking at her again, her mouth hung open for a moment, and just as suddenly slammed shut. She regathered her composure and let her eyes flit back and forth between Lara's own, searching as she had before. “It was a very sweet idea, Sam. Please... Put it back?”

Unsure what else to do, Sam obliged. She swallowed the knot in her throat and turned to reascend her chair and pin the leafy decoration back into place. She had to admit, even if it were the wrong plant, it was still awfully pretty. Perhaps it wasn't so bad, she thought.

When she stepped down Lara had come closer again. There was almost no space left for her to step onto to the floor. Lara's hands appeared from under her blanket, and slid up to Sam's face. They stroked gently at her hair as it was eased away from her features so that Lara could trace them with her fingertips. Sam's eyes fell closed after only a few moments of this, and she had to wonder what she'd done right. It was unlike Lara to initiate touches like that, but Sam liked it.  _A lot._

“Really, Sam...”, Lara told her quietly, they were so close that she barely had to whisper for Sam to hear her, and her breath tickled across Sam's cheek, eliciting a shiver. “Everything”, she spent seconds emphasizing the word, “is lovely.” Sam opened her eyes, suddenly aware of how alert and sensitive the skin of her face had become under Lara's touch. It was a pleasant sort of light-headedness that made her skin tingle in the wake of each finger stroke.

“Lara..?”, she breathed her friend's name almost sleepily, and touched a hand to Lara's cheek with no small measure of care. The contact stilled the fingers against Sam's face, and she saw hesitation in Lara's eyes for just a moment. It was odd, Sam thought. The expression vanished so quickly, but Lara had actually seemed scared. Her fingers resumed their feathering dance along Sam's cheeks, however, and Sam took it as permission to reciprocate. She began touching Lara just as delicately as Lara had touched her, mimicking the way her fingers trailed over the angles and curves of her own face. Later the comfortable trance they had slipped into as they touched one another would strike her as odd, but just then, she could only wonder at what Lara felt, why she hesitated while also making Sam feel so comfortable and cared for. Her actions seemed so confused. It was when the pad of Lara's thumb crossed her lower lip that Sam saw Lara close her eyes. Sam could feel focused attention gliding over the edges of her mouth and gliding across her lips with no set pattern.

Then, as if on queue, the damned kettle began screaming. It spewed steam and whistled, and completely ruined the moment. Lara, seemingly shocked out of a dream, took the moment to collect herself, and look away.

“I'm actually quite tired...”, she murmured. Her hand slowly fell down Sam's face and shoulder, trailing along her arm to her hand and squeezing it gently once. When she looked back at Sam again she put a soft smile on her lips that emphasized their closeness to Sam's own. “I suppose I'll take my tea to bed.” Sam frowned, but nodded. She turned to fetch Lara a mug from the cupboard, and as she held it out, Lara's lips met her cheek. It was a small peck at most, but it made her smile, and it felt genuine, so Sam appreciated it. “Thank you, Sam”, Lara said, setting to work on her tea. “This is lovely.”

 


	2. Incorrigible

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lara wants to spend her holidays quietly on the couch with Sam, but Sam is a force of nature.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, the story's going to be longer than I planned! Hope you guys are happy, rather than disappointed, to hear as much.

“I was promised tea”, she reminded Sam, who chuckled and stepped away to prepare the kettle. Her sigh was almost inaudible, but Lara's ears did catch it, just barely.

Lara sat at the table, leaned back, and made herself cosy in her blanket. Her cheek still tingled; she was fighting a losing battle against her craving for more. She had very nearly given in to Sam, though she was certain she'd hidden that well enough. Despite her blush it had been a very comfortable, happy moment. Those were thoughts she wrestled with while she had a moment away from Sam's eyes.

The temptation to kiss her had been strong enough that she was still fighting it in her chair, but she had stopped herself short. It wasn’t that she was afraid of being rejected, Lara had known about Sam’s feelings for her almost as long as she'd had hers for Sam. The truth, as she saw it, was that Sam was important, and that gave her a power over Lara that others did not have. Sam could hurt her, even if she didn't mean to. And losing Sam...

That did it, by imagining herself losing Sam she’d successfully replaced the contented warmth that had cushioned her heart with an icy pang. _Lovely._

“So. Lovely?”, Lara started at the words. Sam had finished filling the kettle and crashed into her chair across from Lara without her having even noticed.

“Wot?” Lara stammered, accent deepening into something more Northern from a mixture of sickness and fatigue. Sam looked at her with concern and began to strum her fingers together haphazardly. Lara's face had paled but for her nose, for a moment it had been as if Sam could read her thoughts. Perhaps that wouldn't have been so bad.

* * *

Lara shook her head, and looked away from the bathroom mirror. She'd gotten lost in her memory of the night before. With a sigh she turned on the cold water to splash her face, and tried to ignore the feathered wings beating in her chest.

She set to work on brushing her hair. It wasn't the most mentally challenging, or even attention consuming task, but it helped. Before she'd managed ten strokes with her brush a tapping at the bathroom door took her attention. A courtesy knock from Sam. That was a new practice which her roomie had not picked up until a month prior. It was odd, Lara thought, how Sam's attraction to her had actually made her restrain herself. Odd, but sweet. Sam respected her.

“I'm decent!”, she called through the thin, wooden barrier, and Sam entered in her shirt and pyjama bottoms not a second later. Her slender arms wrapped themselves around Lara from behind, hands latching over opposing wrists just beneath her bust. She could feel Sam blowing some hair out of the way as she set her chin on Lara's shoulder and snuggled in. That was more like it, she thought, and leaned her head against her friend's while setting down her brush. “Feeling affectionate, I see”, she said while stroking Sam's arm just over her belly.

Sam exhaled slowly, drawing out the closeness before stepping away to speak. “What? A girl can't hug her bestie?” Lara turned to find Sam grinning; Sam was up to something. Lara leaned back on the sink, bracing herself with a hand on the corner and eyed Sam curiously.

“Sam...”, she intoned with mock gravity, “what have you done this time?” Sam did her best to look indignant, but her eyes caught Lara's gaze and she froze. She came off looking more like a cat that had lost herself completely while watching someone dangle string before her nose. Lingering looks; another of Sam's new habits of about a month old, it might have been Lara's favourite.

Sam looked away first, and retreated behind her bangs, as if she had been shied by the shared eye contact. “All right, all right, so I _miiight_ have, kind of, sort of... A little bit...”, she wound her fingers together and picked at them nervously. Lara suspected Sam's confidence had taken a hit underneath the holly, and that beneath her fringe Sam had a flush colour to her. She wished she could see it.

“Samantha Nishimura!”, she enunciated in her most posh rendition of the Queen's English. Sam lifted her chin, pushing back the veil of her hair and allowing her to meet Lara's eyes again, bottom lip held tightly between her teeth. They shared a smile. To Lara's satisfaction her friend was practically glowing pink, and wore it well. “Do tell me what it is that you have done, and be quick about it”, she finished, eyes half lidded in a look that was half disciplinarian and half sultry.

“I... uh...” Sam stammered feebly, her rosy cheeks and white teeth on full display, “Christmas party?”

“A Christmas party?”, Lara repeated, raising a hand to her forehead to brush aside a bit of stray hair. “I'm not feeling well, Sam.”

“I know...” her voice hit a low note of disappointment, and she looked down at the floor again, seeming regretful, but lifted her eyes to look up at Lara. She wore an expertly subtle pout and the angle of her face forced her eyes to open wider than normal; Sam had _mastered_ sad puppy. In a single expression she'd wiped the smug librarian clean off of Lara's face and out of her voice. “I just didn't want to go alone.”  
_Bugger_ , Lara thought. She knew immediately she had lost, she had no answer to that. Sam had chosen her words too carefully, plucked at Lara's heartstrings and let them sing for her. “Fine”, she ceded, and spread her arms to her sides. Sam sprang into the offered hug with enthusiasm, and nearly knocked Lara backward over the sink. She didn't mind so much, it was worth the feeling of Sam's face nestling into her shoulder. The way the sensation of her warm breath, and tickling eyelashes against her neck covered Lara's skin with tingling bumps and raised hairs. She kissed the top of Sam's head, and gently inhaled the scent of her hair. “You'll be the death of me, Sam”, she said with quiet sternness. They separated, and shared another smile.

“It'll be worth it, though, right?” Lara rolled her eyes for Sam's benefit. She was supposed to be properly annoyed, the situation dictated she be annoyed. She wasn't. In truth she was happy. Relieved, as well. The idea of Sam partying without her, perhaps meeting someone, made her more nervous than she'd have liked to admit, even to herself.

“Twice over. Now, what have you gotten me into?”, her arms folded across herself and she recomposed herself as the calm, rational, figure of authority that physical closeness to Sam so easily reminded her she wasn't.

“Friends”, Sam told her while staring down at where he fingers fidgeted together. “And friends of friends. A keg, maybe?”

“A keg? For Christmas?” With a sigh Lara rested her forehead in her palm.  
“I picked us up some rum and eggnog”, Sam added innocently. When Lara dragged her hand down her face to glare at Sam between splayed fingers, Sam was grinning again.

“Sam...”, she groaned, “you are lactose intolerant, remember?”

“And I kind of already bought a top I'd like you to wear...”, Sam had clearly heard her but chosen to continue talking as if she might lose the will to broach the subject if she stopped.

“You realize drinking too much eggnog will make you sick?”

“I know you'd rather wear a tee...”

“Too much eggnog would make me sick, and I can actually produce lactase!”

“...but it'll look great on you, it's tasteful, and black, and, please?”

“That's rather sweet of you, but I'd rather we sort out where your head is. You are _lactose intolerant_ , Sam.”

Sam held her hands up defensively. “I know that, okay? I know you like it, though, and kind of hoped you'd forgot. I'll drink beer, whatever, but will you promise to try on the shirt I got you?” Lara wasn't sure why it was so important to Sam, but she sighed and nodded. Just like that, Sam had returned to her chipper self, yelling an emphatic “yes!”, and pumping her fist.

“Settled, then, I wear the shirt”, she had already accepted that she didn't have it in her to not wear something given to her as a gift, “...And you don't sicken yourself on holiday treats. Was it really so important we had to talk about this in the bathroom?”

“I, uh, also have to 'use the loo'”, Sam said sheepishly.

Lara's lips shrunk into a small circle, “Oh.”, she said. “Right, then”, and she quickly disappeared through the door. She had made her escape from Sam's morning absurdity, but not the fluttering wings in her chest. Despite herself she wore an amused smile.

They ate breakfast together on the couch in relative silence. Small talk was had, but Lara had ensured Sam's near full attention would be taken by the breakfast she'd made. While not quite a 'full English', she'd managed to cobble together sausages, bacon, and some bread to fry, and serve with eggs. Which were, of course, also fried. And so, they spoke between grunts of 'mm', 'om', and variations of 'nom'.

The portions had been generous, and Sam was almost unable to finish her meal. She stared at the remaining food on her plate as though it were an exam for which she'd studied, and yet somehow forgotten the answers. It was her tasty, tasty nemesis, to be slain and conquered. Lara had done this to her by design. Sam on a full belly would take longer to recover her energy, which meant Lara got to spend a little while delaying the inevitable moment Sam dragged her from the couch to play dress-up. If Lara were being honest with herself, it had been worth it to watch Sam scarf her cooking with such obvious enjoyment. Sam's joy had always been infectious.

Lara's plan had just about done the trick; Sleepy Sam remained couch-bound and unable to enact her nefarious, party themed plans on her. She stayed with Sam on the couch, too. Lara had, in the end, been unable to avoid being caught in her own lethargy-inducing trap. They flipped on the television to fill the quiet, and Lara tugged Sam over by her arm until her head fell into Lara's lap.

She wove her fingers into Sam's hair and stroked her scalp with a lazy slowness that quieted her own mind, and seemed to put her friend into a trance. Together on the couch, recovering from the apocalyptic aftermath of a traditional English breakfast, they just happily melted into the cushions and one another. More than an hour disappeared that way before either of them stirred.

Lara had been somewhere in the limbo between sleep and consciousness when the shifting on her thighs began to pull her back to the surface. It was a slow process, more like floating than swimming, and there was no exact moment that awareness returned to her; rather it came in pieces. Sam awake. Sam's silky hair disappearing from beneath Lara's fingers as she rolled onto her back, and then onto her other side. Sam facing in toward Lara's stomach, and looking up at her. Sam's soft-eyed smile, and how she reached up to stroke Lara's cheek. The subtle twinkle in Sam's eye as with a single extended finger she touched the tip of Lara's nose with a barely breathed “boop”. Beautiful Sam. Bit by bit those were the thoughts which put her waking mind back in order.

“Jesus, Lara”, the head in her lap murmured, “you're like a super villain with a spatula. I can _feel_ the years you've cost my lifespan.” It felt like high praise.

“I think you'd spend them sleeping anyway”, Lara yawned in reply, “fry up or not.” Sam smirked back up at her, and sent her fingers to glide over Lara's cheekbone and guide some hair behind her pierced ear.

“I guess”, she admitted, “but food comas don't help.” Her reply had Lara chuckling, and shaking her head. Sam dragged herself from the couch to a standing position with a drawn out yawn and skyward stretch. Lara found herself wishing Sam would just come back and waste the day on the couch. With her.

She stretched in her seat, and straightened out her legs, measuring the soreness in her muscles before putting them to work supporting her weight. “Can you sort the dishes, Sam?”, she hummed as she rose to her full height. Sam's response was a small nod, and to head straight for the kitchen. Lara watched her friend's back as she went, passing under the holly as she did. She sighed, but took the opportunity presented by her flatmate being temporarily busied and headed back to the wash. She could get in the first shower that morning, and she did so; she started the tap on cold.

After her shower she felt sharper. She had control of herself, her heart hadn't stopped beating its wings, but she had it caged. She managed to walk past the door to Sam's room without even turning her head to look inside. She told herself the shift of her eyes to one side was involuntary.

She dressed herself in her worn out white bathrobe, and tied it tightly to herself to fight the chill. Her bed looked warm, and inviting, but she'd just made it again after Sam had _laid waste_ to it on her the night before. She hadn't minded that, it was sweet, but she didn't feel like unmaking and remaking it all over. Instead she settled for, carefully mind, laying herself out on top of the blankets, and picking up her laptop to busy herself while Sam took her turn in the shower. It would have been easy for her to close her eyes, and let her thoughts wander after Sam. Instead she turned on a Chelsea Wolfe play-list and pulled up a .pdf file titled _Evidence for the Reality of Yamatai, Ackerman et al._ It pleased her to have that sort of control over herself, and she felt better about not invading her friend's privacy; even if it was just in her thoughts.

Her studies relaxed her, drew her focus into them. It had always been effortless for her to lose her mind in new information, even dryly worded information that was doing its best to sound clinical and uninteresting. She had always preferred to be digging at something unknown than simply absorbing something established.

All focus and concentration was shattered when a weight crashed onto her bed and nearly bounced her onto the floor. She slapped her laptop shut, and shot Sam a glare. Her friend lay at the center of her freshly disarranged bed, and equally disarranged thoughts. In nothing but a white towel, Sam propped herself up with her weight on one elbow, and an arm across her chest to keep herself contained. She grinned at Lara cheekily, “sorry”, she said, “it's warmer in your room.”

“Then perhaps you shouldn't have laid immediate claim to the bedroom with the window?”, Lara sighed while doing her best to look anywhere but at Sam. She regretted closing her laptop, she hadn't meant to do that, and it signalled that Sam had her full attention. It was true, but she hadn't wanted to broadcast it.

Doing her best to accept defeat with dignity she put the laptop back on her end table, and let her eyes fall on Sam. Not Sam's hips, legs, or shape. Her face, where her soft, pink lips were smiling with serenity at the chaos she'd caused. Lara's face felt warmer, not Sam's lips either, Sam's eyes. Eye contact. She quickly realized that if Sam remained so close and so nearly naked she'd be ruined for the night; she was out of excuses for cold showers. “Shall I fetch you something to wear, then?”, she suggested half sarcastically, with a brow raised in amusement.

Sam tilted her head back and forth quickly as if she were seriously thinking on her answer. Her energy was back, and her eyes shone as they had that morning. Lara could feel herself becoming more concerned by the moment. “I'd like that”, Sam decided, and bit her lip so briefly Lara nearly missed it. She added, “your shirt is in the bag on my bed.” She was quickly carrying Lara from snarky to nervous.

“Er...”, she began to form an excuse, but she couldn't get herself to actually deny Sam while she seemed so happy. Closing her eyes, and cursing herself mentally she ventured “What should I get for you to wear?”, and carefully sat up to swing her legs over the edge of her bed while displaying as little of them as possible.

“Surprise me!” That had not been what Lara expected to hear. She collected her jaw from where it had fallen before she turned to regard Sam seriously.

“' _Surprise_ you'?”, she repeated with a hint of disbelief. It was always Sam surprising her, not the other way around, and she began to feel quite put on the spot.

Sam stuck her tongue out, and crossed her legs as she sat up. “You do know what looks good on me, and I trust you. So... Dress me.” Lara could swear Sam's eyes were _flirting_ with hers. Lara tried to avoid them and all it took was one look at the towel bravely fighting the losing war for Sam's modesty to send her right back to Sam's eyes.

She held her composure, and replied with a perfectly deadpan “I am _not_ dressing you.” She put her hands on her hips authoritatively and tried not to think that what Sam said had been sweet.

“I could just stay like this”, Sam countered with a gesture to her small towel, and a mischievous grin. Lara opened her mouth to reply but closed it again. She could feel blood pumping to her face and quickly turned to keep Sam from seeing as much.

She hurried out of her room and across the hall into Sam's. When she opened the door it really was colder in there than in her own. It was uncomfortable, and she couldn't blame Sam for avoiding going inside while she was still wet from her shower. She looked around at Sam's messy bed and floor, and yet tidy desk, dresser, and night table. Between the two of them she was sure they could have kept at least one totally clean bedroom. Or an entirely messy one. She hummed at the uninvited thought and began to fidget. She'd been inside this room many times, but she'd never felt uneasy before.

She placed her hands over her face and drew in a deep breath. She told herself it was simple, it was nothing. It wasn't any different than doing Sam's laundry to steal back her t-shirts. Except that it felt very different. Sam expected something from her, and while it would be easy enough to dump slacks and a pullover in her flatmate's lap and let her sort it out, she didn't want to disappoint her. She could already imagine the bored, let down look Sam would give her if she didn't at least try. That would be worse than embarrassing herself. So, she shook her head and got to it.

First she spotted the small, unnecessarily fancy bag Sam had mentioned would be on her bed. She decided to pick it up last, and headed for Sam's closet. The door slid open and Lara was near immediately ready to give up, surely Sam would be bored waiting for her to sort through all of her things? Still, she began shifting hangers from side to side, and luckily enough something did catch her eye. A leather jacket she'd never actually seen Sam wear. Dusty brown with a raised, snap together collar, and neat, undecorated passants on the shoulders. Lara thought it looked sharp, and might keep Sam warm in the December cold, so she laid the jacket across her arm, and moved on.

Next up was a top. That was the easiest, she already knew exactly the one, it was just a matter of finding it. Sam had bought it herself on a shopping binge, after once again being disappointed she wouldn't get to see her father. It was black, had long sleeves,covered Sam's middle and her chest, and it fit her nicely. She dug through Sam's drawers until she found it folded and tucked away in a corner. She replaced the clothes as she'd found them, or in a neat simile thereof, and the top joined the jacket.

That left trousers and... Trousers, then. Trousers for the time being. The state of the floor suggested there might not be a fresh pair of those in the dresser, but Lara decided to try anyway. She rolled her eyes affectionately when she found pre-ripped jeans, a lot of them, in Sam's wardrobe. They looked sharp on Sam, sure, but she'd never understood paying extra for _holes._ It didn't take her long to find a suitable, and intact, set of lowrise denim slacks. Over her arm they went. Along with a shiny black belt that she'd spotted hung from Sam's bedframe.

So, Lara realized, began her trials. She opened the very top left drawer of the dresser and prayed for socks. Socks would have been easy; pick the colourful festive ones. Looking down into Sam's underwear drawer it did occur to her that 'colourful and festive' were still very real options. She pinched the bridge her nose with her free hand, and drew a slow breath to calm herself. She was beginning to feel as though she'd slipped up, been caught; like her choosing Sam's clothes was a trap, and she knew she couldn't just skip underclothes, it would only prove that they made her nervous.

She released the breath she'd been holding and leaned against the dresser. _Christ, Lara_ , she thought, _it's just some knickers._ With that thought she gathered herself, and lifted the first pair her hand touched in the drawer. There, done. It had been easy.

But as she moved to close the drawer she felt doubt, and forced herself to actually look at them. Did they send the right message? Was she sending a message? Would Sam read a message into what she chose, even if she didn't send one? What if she'd by pure chance picked something too racy?

So, she looked at them. After a moment she folded and replaced the white cotton, having spotted a small pink bow on their front. She was most certainly _not_ gift wrapping her best friend for Christmas. Anxiety was building by then. Did it matter? She wondered again if Sam would read anything into her choices at all. It didn't take her much thinking to decide that she would.

With a sigh she really looked into the drawer, she was relieved its contents were mostly colourful, cute, and comfortable. Feeling bolder than she had, she lifted another pair and chewed idly on the tip of her tongue as she judged them. They were grey, with a Snorlax on the front, and text reading “your path is blocked”. She actually smiled at that. For Sam to have a Pokémon on her briefs was so absurd, so unexpected, that Lara thought it actually suited her.

She imagined Sam's raised brows as Lara dropped them into her lap with the other clothes she'd picked. Right on top. She could picture the way Sam's eyebrows would climb her forehead, and the aside glance that would match. She liked that, but she didn't like how her mind decided Sam might also take her choice to mean rejection. So, back into the drawer they went.

Picking up the third pair was easier, she noticed. She wasn't sure she liked that; getting comfortable with what she was doing felt illicit. It wasn't something she meant to allow herself, but, somewhere behind the anxiety she felt, there was also a thrill. Not ten minutes before she'd been patting herself on the back for her self control, and there she stood, excited by the idea of being the one person at the party that night who knew what Sam was wearing for knickers, and that she'd chosen them herself. The third pair went back in with the others, and Lara cursed herself for even considering red, no matter how plain.

Black or grey, it had to be something black or grey. Nice and neutral. A little bit of digging rewarded her with a pair of plain black boy shorts. Comfortable, practical, non-committal. They were perfect, and just a little bit sexy. Lara sighed in relief, and fetched a matching black bra, quickly as she could, along with the first pair of socks she saw. The less time she took the easier it would be to deny to Sam she'd put any thought at all into her choices. She still took another moment to breathe and compose herself before leaving Sam's bedroom, and walking back across the hall into her own.

Settled in the very middle of her formerly neatly made bed, Sam sat cocooned in Lara's sheet and blankets so thoroughly that her face was barely visible above the bunched together comforters. Of course, Sam had taken over her bed the instant she'd left. “I was cold.” She gave a shake as if she were shivering, and offered Lara an innocent look.

Lara rolled her eyes dramatically, and climbed onto the bed to show Sam the clothes she'd picked out. Her expression was as neutral and casual as possible, and she had always had a strong poker face. Seeing Sam so relaxed and natural helped, it put Lara at ease. It also also helped that Sam was covered. She crossed her legs to set the small stack of clothes there, dropping the bag off the edge of her bed, and out of sight, hopefully out of mind.

The bag landed on a clean, white towel. Sam's towel. Lara's brow creased; that meant that underneath her bedding Sam was fully nude. As if her ordeal picking out clothes had not been enough. It had been Sam's plan all along to put Lara on her back foot, she realized. Up to that moment, it had worked.

Sam didn't seem to have noticed what she was looking at on the floor, so she chose, for the moment, to act like she hadn't seen Sam's towel on her floor, and she didn't know that underneath the blanket her best friend was completely _starkers_.

It was not an easy task, she felt her eyes drift down from Sam's own to where her shoulders and collarbone would be beneath the comforter. She bit her lip and immediately put her features back into place before her eyes could drift elsewhere. The blanket didn't matter, the thought of Sam was enough. She was filled with the same illicit feeling she'd experienced in Sam's room.

She broke her silence only a few moments after she had decided to keep it. “You are incorrigible”, she blurted as the tips of her ears caught fire, “completely beyond help!”

“I've been found out, huh?”, she asked while leaning forward with a smug grin. With Sam slowly invading her personal space, the fire at the tips of Lara's ears spread rapidly to her nose and cheeks. Knowing Sam's designs strengthened her resolve to keep the upper hand.

“You have”, she confirmed as boldly as she could muster, and she gave Sam's shoulder a playful shove. She was glad her tone had been soft; Sam looked worried she'd overstepped her welcome. Lara reached out to where she knew Sam's hand was hidden, and squeezed it with practiced gentleness. Sam's smug look returned, and she resumed her forward posture. Their foreheads touched, and Sam locked their gazes.

Knowing that Sam was doing her best to fluster her did nothing to actually stop the spreading flames. It was clear to Lara by that point that Sam was very aware of her feelings. It was a relieving thought, rather than an unnerving one, and she found herself grinning confidently at her flatmate. “I suppose I've been caught, as well?”

Sam nodded slowly, she ended the motion so that the space between them shrunk, and their noses brushed together. Lara closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, allowing herself to relax and enjoy the sensation. When she opened them again Sam was watching her with obvious affection; her pupils were wide as saucers and her brow settled gently over her eyes. Lara could feel her heart fluttering its wings again. Sam's gaze had begun to shift left to right as it had the night before. Lara knew what that meant, and she wanted Sam to finish leaning forward. Badly.

Instead, Lara stopped her by placing her hand on Sam's cheek and capturing her chocolate brown eyes with her own. “I can't”, she said, and leaned further forward. She kissed Sam on her cheek. Sam's skin was warm, and soft, and when Lara pressed her lips to it she allowed the contact to linger longer than she had initially meant to. She drew herself back, matching her forehead to Sam's once again.

When Lara looked at her, Sam's lips were crossed between a pout and a sad smile. It was a bittersweet look, and her eyes hung low and sad. Sam's confidence had waned and Lara thought she looked very vulnerable, almost submissive.

“I can't, _right now_ ”, Lara corrected herself. Sam looked hopeful at that, her smile brightened a shade, and she lifted her gaze again. She didn't ask Lara why, or when. There were no words Lara could find to tell Sam how much she appreciated that about her. Sam was adventurous, exploratory, but never pushy. In an odd thought Lara considered her to be like an archaeologist. She invaded Lara's personal space and her life without a second thought, but she never tried to break down any barrier that actually resisted her. Sam's invasion always preserved whatever part of Lara she was unearthing.

It made Lara feel silly to think in such terms, but it also gave her a comfortable happiness. She let herself fall onto her side on the bed, pulling Sam along with her. They arranged themselves into a close hug, with Sam's face buried in the front of Lara's bathrobe. “I love you, you know that, right?”, she asked into the top of Sam's head. She raised her head to look thoughtfully at Lara, almost questioningly. In the end she gave a small nod, and the way the genuine smile on her lips reached all the way to her eyes made her seem quite beautiful to Lara just then. It struck Lara completely out of words. She stared back at Sam happily, completely lost in the feeling of feathered wings in her chest.

 


	3. Beyond Help

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after Lara and Sam's near kiss, from Sam's perspective.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took as long as it did. Chapters just keep getting longer. Hope it's worth the wait, the final chapter should be done Soon™.

Sam rolled off of the couch, and took her feet. She leaned from side to side, arms up in a long, wide stretch. Her muscles tensed before releasing into a pleasant ache, drawing a contented yawn from her. Behind her Lara did the same.

“Can you sort the dishes, Sam?” Sam nodded, and wandered toward the sink. She could feel Lara's eyes on her back, and did her best to strut as she passed underneath the door frame where she'd hung the sprig of holly. Lara's pleased, but barely audible sigh was her reward. When she looked over her shoulder to appreciate it her roomie had already fled. She turned on the tap and got to work on the dishes, smiling. Not long after, she heard Lara start up the shower.

It didn't take her much time to finish with the pan, utensils, and paired plates. When she was done she walked into her bedroom and fell backward onto her mattress with her arms splayed. It was a bit colder in her room than the living room because she had North facing windows, and kept her door closed whenever she wasn't inside; it was easier than making her bed and keeping her floor tidy.

She pulled her blanket over herself from the side of her bed where it was hanging off and waited for it to warm up. She almost wished she hadn't left the couch, Lara had been a real sweetheart. Not in any specific way, but in her gentle, affectionate silence. Sam shivered in her blanket while reliving Lara's soft touches with the intention of committing them to memory. It was rare for Lara to be that way, but Sam always treasured it when it happened. In the last two days she'd seen that side of Lara twice. Thinking about it left her beaming up at her ceiling.

Her glow faded somewhat as she remembered Lara turning away from her kiss the night before, but she fought the doubt that tried to weigh down her stomach. Sure, Sam had been embarrassed and ashamed, but Lara didn't let her feel that way. She'd spotted the fear in Sam before Sam had time to fully register it herself. And when Lara had touched her afterward, treating her like something rare, and precious, she did it like it was the most normal, automatic thing she could do.

There had been an attention to detail in Lara's look and movements that made Sam feel like she was being studied, like she was the most interesting thing in the world. Until the kettle had ruined the moment. Sam sighed, Lara was the only person who ever treated her that way. Quiet, self-controlled, and reserved Lara. She hoped those moments would come more often.

She found herself thinking how things might have gone had she pinned up the right plant. Would Lara have humored her? She wasn't sure, but it was nice to think about. Lara's lips had been so close; she'd even been allowed to touch them. They were beautiful, and unexplored, and she wanted to feel them with her own. Lara wouldn't let her.

There was a loud thud, and sound of water in the next room stalled. Lara had finished her shower. The noise had jarred Sam from her thoughts, and she was grateful for it. She'd begun to think in circles. A tendency she normally avoided. She waited for Lara to towel off and leave the washroom, listening patiently while laying in her sheets. She was warmer than she'd been, but still missing the couch, and Lara's lap. She didn't let it bother her so much, though, because they were going to a party, and it was her turn to shower. That would wake her up.

She'd been distracting herself with plans for the party when she heard the bathroom door open, and Lara's quick footsteps. Sam looked toward her doorway expectantly. She raised her hand to wave as Lara passed, but Lara barely shifted her eyes.

Doubt returned as Sam got to her feet and began walking toward the bathroom. She worried that she was mistaking patience for affection. Lara had always tolerated her antics. She'd accompanied her to clubs, cleaned up after her when she got sick, and even chased away unwanted suitors for her more than once. Sam closed the door, and faced the mirror. She evaluated her reflection, going so far as to lean over the sink and angle her face toward the glass to examine her own features. She focused on the places she could most clearly remember the smooth pads of Lara's fingertips. She leaned back from the mirror and shook her head, she knew she was being silly. She was acting like a lovesick teenager, but it made her smile anyway. It was exciting.

She stripped herself quickly of her shirt and pajama pants, and stepped into the cold shower basin. It surprised her a bit and she danced on her toes, hurrying to turn on the water so that she could warm herself. She grabbed the knob that controlled the water and yanked on it in a quick motion, eager for hot water that never came. She nearly shrieked. Without a second thought she jumped out of the shower and onto the slick tile floor, nearly slipping. She steadied herself on the bathroom sink and breathed heavily. Why the _hell_ had Lara left the water on ice cold for her? She laughed at herself a bit, she had to admit that it was pretty funny. Then she had a thought; what if Lara had simply taken a cold shower?

Her laughter shrunk away, but her smile grew. There had been no steam on the mirror earlier, had there? Sam hadn't even thought about it twice. The pieces fell into place, her cheeks warmed, even while the rest of her fought the need to shiver. She carefully adjusted the temperature of the water from _outside_ the shower the second time. If Lara had needed a cold shower, then Sam certainly didn't want one. She climbed back inside the basin, and quickly put together a plan.

It wasn't a complicated plan, it didn't need to be. She finished up her shower, and grabbed a towel just a bit too small to dry off with. It was probably more suited to her hair, but when she wrapped it around herself it was perfect. It covered her, mostly. She wrapped it tightly, making sure her hips weren't hidden away, and did her best to keep it high enough that she didn't fall out, and low enough that the amount of visible thigh didn't stray _too_ far beyond what Lara would be comfortable with. She was small enough that she made it work.

She brushed her hair while it was still wet, and then psyched herself up in the mirror. She took another look down at herself in her tiny towel, slapped her hands together, and spun on her heel to leave the bathroom.

As soon as she opened the door her pace quickened. It was _cold_ , but she didn't head to her own room, oh, no. Part two of her plan was just around the corner. She ran straight through the doorway to Lara's room and threw herself bodily into the center of Lara's bed.

She hadn't meant to land quite so heavily; Lara was nearly tossed from her spot and onto the floor. The glare Lara gave her as she closed her laptop was immediate, and smoldering, but Sam was grinning back at her brightly. She lay on her side, head in her hand and leaning on a bent elbow. She had her other arm wrapped self-consciously across her chest; her landing had pulled the towel tight, and she felt like she might pop out at any moment.

“Sorry,” she told Lara, “it's warmer in your room.”

Lara's response was to look down at her closed laptop as if it had somehow let her down. “Then perhaps you shouldn't have laid immediate claim to the bedroom with the window?” she suggested unhelpfully. Despite her tone, Lara put her apparently _traitorous_ laptop on her end table, and focused her full attention on Sam.

Her serious expression was gone after that, and had softened into something much more welcoming. She froze for a second, and it faded entirely. A moment passed between them where Lara's head panned back and forth as she took in a visual of Sam. Her lips parted just so, like they sometimes did when she was lost in thought, and Sam thought her nose looked just a bit more red than it had before. The color spread to Lara's cheeks. Her gaze on Sam's skin made it feel hot, and she could feel Lara's eyes climb over her as much as she could see them. They stumbled over her chin, landing on her lips for just a moment, before ascending to her eyes.

Her plan was definitely working; Lara looked completely  _starved._ Sam shifted her legs together as if to warm them against the cold air, and realized her cheeks were beginning to hurt from the wide grin on her face. She made a token effort to hide behind her fringe, but wondered how Lara could be capable of giving her a look like that, and yet had managed to conceal whatever feelings she had. It was only a moment later that she had her answer.

Lara wet her lips as she closed her mouth, and the hunger on her features slipped beneath the surface. Instead Lara presented a placid, yet smug, look, despite the color in her face, and lifted a brow with choreographed smoothness. She was picture perfect when she spoke, and her voice carried none of the things her hungry look had hinted at. 

“Shall I fetch you something to wear, then?” She was charming, sarcastic, and a total actress. Sam could have died, and not just over how she'd underestimated Lara's self control; what she'd suggested was perfect, and she could not have planned it if it had even occurred to her before. Sam let her head fall from left to right, flinging her silky black hair haphazardly as she pretended to consider the question.

“I'd like that.” She bit her bottom lip, and dropped her decision into Lara's lap as if it were an infant Lara was responsible for. The cracks in Lara's perfectly orchestrated calm were already showing. “Your shirt is in the bag on my bed.” Sam added ever so helpfully.

“Er...” Nope, Sam turned up the charm by gazing innocently into Lara's eyes, and shifting her bare legs together at the calves and ankles as though she were cold. Lara's head fell and Sam saw her close her eyes. An expression that clearly indicated Sam had, once again, won.

“What should I get for you to wear?” she asked, carefully swinging her legs off of the bed to stand. Sam did her best, but didn't manage to get eyes on more than Lara's ankles during the movement, she had a feeling Lara had been careful for exactly that reason.

“Surprise me!” she sent back perkily. She was feeling daring. Lara had shown weakness, the time had come to shell for effect.

“ _Surprise_ you?” Sam caught Lara's tone immediately. It meant she was either on to whatever Sam was trying to pull, or that Sam had done something she had no idea how to react to. She knew she had to word what she said next very carefully. 

“You know what looks good on me, and I trust you. So... Dress me.” She carefully broke eye contact as she said 'dress me', and only looked back at Lara to pout a second after, making sure to keep her gaze sidelong, and tentative. After that it was Lara who had to look away.

“I am  _not_ dressing you!” she managed to deliver back. Sam was impressed with how composed she sounded, but she was doing that thing where she put her hands on her hips that meant she was on the verge of surrender. 

“I could just stay like this.” Sam made a flowing gesture with her hand as she said it. She guided Lara's eye down herself from the top of her towel to her toes. That did it. Lara opened her mouth for a second, but swallowed whatever she was going to say. Her composure was coming to pieces and she turned away from Sam to hide whatever was trying to make itself known on her face, and walked out. Victory.

Sam took a moment to savor it. Lara  _liked_ her. She hadn't imagined it, and it hadn't been wishful thinking. She relaxed a bit onto Lara's bed, and heard her closet door open across the hall. With Lara, and her hungry gaze, gone, Sam realized again that she was still damp and cold from her shower. Her first impulse was to get under Lara's blankets.

It was only once she'd already tossed her towel aside that she wondered if what she was doing was wrong. She frowned at herself. Making Lara uncomfortable was something she did often enough, and Lara always took it well, but hiding naked in her bed seemed different. It was more than a joke, or a remark, it was an advance, she hoped Lara wouldn't see it as an invasion.

Sam shook her head and smiled, she knew Lara better than that, and told herself she was nervous, just being shy. She swallowed her fear, it was easy to do because Lara  _liked_ her. She kept thinking about it, and it kept making her heart race. She pulled the blankets around herself in a tight cocoon, completely destroying Lara's neatly made bed. Again. 

It was only a couple minutes later that Lara walked back across the hall. When she saw how Sam had, once again, utterly messed her bed, and wrapped herself bug-snug in the bed's middle, her eyebrows rose on her forehead.

“I was cold,” Sam explained. She shivered dramatically for emphasis. Lara simply rolled her eyes, and took a seat across from Sam on the sheet. Sam saw her place a stack of clothes on her crossed legs. She couldn't see just what most of them were, though. A brown leather jacket sat on top of the heap and hid the rest from view. She also saw Lara turn to drop the bag containing her new shirt off the edge of the bed. While her roomie's eyes were averted Sam shook her head slightly. Of course she would put that off to last.

Lara looked back at her, making eye contact, but not speaking. She was chewing her lip, Sam noticed, which meant she was thinking. That was exciting to Sam, she wondered just what Lara had picked out for her. Her friend's eyes left her own, slipping easily down to look at where the blanket puffed over her neck and shoulders. For just a second it seemed they'd drift lower. Lara had already caught on, of course she had. Even embarrassed she had a mind sharper than a tack, and she wouldn't have missed a detail.

“You are incorrigible,” Lara was suddenly saying “completely beyond help!” Sam couldn't really deny it, and it did occur to her that she'd taken things much farther than most people would to get a rise out of Lara, but she also knew it took a lot more to  _get_ a proper rise out of Lara than most. 

“I've been found out, huh?”, Sam asked, leaning boldly forward. Lara's eyes widened for the split moment that Sam broke her composure with the advance, and she found herself grinning ear to ear at the flood of color to Lara's face. The moment couldn't last.

“You have,” Lara told her, with a stern look and a gentle shove on her shoulder. Sam felt her confidence beginning to wither under that look. She'd gone pretty far beyond what she could excuse herself for if Lara took her actions poorly, she realized. Her jaw worked silently, and she tried to think of something clever or funny to say, anything to cut the tension. In the end she didn't have to; Lara saw the worry on her face, just as she had the night before. Sam felt Lara take hold of her hand through the blanket, and squeeze it. It did more than reassure Sam, it reminded her of one of the many things about Lara she loved.

Her excitement returned, and it mixed with her unbound affection, returning the grin to her face with a vengeance. Her cheeks began to hurt right away, but she leaned forward again to touch her forehead to Lara's, and lock their gazes. It made her happy to see Lara smiling, too.

“I suppose I've been caught, as well?” Lara asked. Sam replied with a nod against Lara's forehead that brought their noses together. Sam could feel that Lara's was burning warm from her cold and all the blood in her face.

She watched Lara's eyes close, and listened as she breathed deep and slow. They were close, so close. Sam wanted to kiss her. She could do it easily, but she waited. She waited while her pulse began to pound faster, and faster, and until she could hear it in her ears. She waited for Lara to open her eyes, and looked to them for permission. Lara had turned her away before; this wasn't something she could force. She needed Lara to want it as badly as she did.

When Lara had collected herself enough to look at Sam again, her eyes were delirious with hunger, and they lingered on Sam's mouth. Sam hadn't been ready for that. Her skin prickled with pleasant heat, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention. It was only a few centimeters that separated Lara's perfect, soft, bee-stung lips from her own. Her heart was practically singing. Still, she hesitated, she wanted Lara to close the gap. She wanted Lara to be the one to kiss her.

Instead Lara touched her face, and said “I can't.” Sam felt Lara's mouth move past her own, to her cheek instead. She felt the silky gentleness of Lara's lips against her skin as she was kissed there. She felt foolish. The affectionate contact was lovely, and beautiful, but she didn't understand why it had to be her cheek. She felt a knot in her throat. 

Lara held the kiss for a long moment, and Sam swallowed the uncomfortable lump, and relaxed into the warmth of the moment. She'd gone to great lengths to provoke the gesture from Lara, and refused to let anything, even her own feelings, tarnish it.

At length, Lara pulled away, and Sam had to fight to keep from shivering at the deliberate way those lips brushed across her skin. When Lara touched their foreheads together again, Sam couldn't look her in the eye. She smiled for Lara, as best she could, and tried not to dwell on being rejected.

“I can't,  _right now_ ” Lara said after a moment, and Sam lifted her gaze, almost afraid to think what that might mean. She felt hopeful, though, and her smile widened a little bit without her permission. 

Lara pulled her into a close embrace, and lay them both on their side in the bed. Sam relaxed into her reflexively, and without hesitation. It surprised her when she realized she'd done it, but she was more surprised by the surge of warmth it gave her; her heart hadn't stopped singing since Lara had taken her hand before, it had simply changed tune. She rested her head against Lara's chest, and let herself be happy in the moment.

“I love you. You know that, right?” Lara said after a moment. She'd done so very carefully, and very closely, like she might be afraid of Sam's reaction. It would later occur to her that she hadn't even realized the power Lara had given her to hurt her just then. In the moment, Sam just lifted her head, and looked at Lara as though she'd said the one perfect thing.

“Lara, of course... I love you, too.” They shared a tight hug that pushed Sam's nose against Lara's collarbone, Sam took the opportunity to close her eyes and take a mental snapshot of them together. It was a moment Sam honestly wished she could have recorded somehow. She didn't want to lose any details to her memory, and she willed it to last forever. Eventually, though, Lara's arms slackened, and the moment passed.

Sam sighed with contentment as she rolled on to her back to regard Lara sidelong. She was full of thoughts, deep, heavy thoughts. She didn't want to drown in them, not where Lara could see her. A thought floating on the surface caught her attention, and she clung to it. It was a good one.

“I don't end up naked in just anyone's bed, you know,” she said, and wiggled her eyebrows. Lara bopped her on the arm for it, but her reaction was worth it.

“Sam!”, she shouted and then covered her mouth. Her face turned color and her chest heaved.  _Laughter._ Sam loved Lara's laugh, containment was so out of the question. Just like that, the tension was over, she reached out of her blanket to pinch Lara's side, just above her hip where she was most ticklish. Lara slapped madly at the hand, but Sam didn't relent until Lara's laugh was freed. She knew she was treading a fine line with tickling Lara, patient as she was, tickling her for too long was a sure way to get on her nerves. The gamble paid off, she stopped before Lara became legitimately irked, and earned herself a short fit of giggling for her trouble. 

Once Lara had settled, Sam reached for her hand, and Lara took it. “This is okay?” Sam asked without explanation. Lara looked confused, and Sam caught on that she had been unclear. “All of this...” she gestured down at the blanket covering her, the messy bed, the pile of clothes between them, “stuff I did.”

“Stuff you did?” Lara repeated, and leaned up on her elbow. “You mean winding me up, lying starkers in my bed, and having me pick out your knickers?” it was Lara's turn to look smug. Sam could see her taking clear pleasure in it.

“Well, yeah...” she squeaked out before asking “not okay?”

“It's okay, Sam.” Her voice said it really was okay, and she gave Sam a soft look that helped ease her worries. A moment later, though, she resumed her teasing. “After all, you don't end up naked in just anyone's bed, do you?” Sam  _wilted_ at having her flirtation used against her; she hid her face in her hands and rolled back and forth on her back, broadcasting her embarrassment for the world. 

“Oh my  _God_ ” she whined from behind her hands. She didn't need to see Lara's grin to know it was probably wide enough to count her fillings. At least Lara seemed happy about it, but the confirmation that she knew that side of Sam was only for her just made Sam flush deeper. 

“We should get ready,” Lara suggested mercifully. It stuck out at Sam as unusual for Lara to be the one to suggest it, but she nodded her agreement from behind her hands. She felt like she could use the distraction before she did something else embarrassing around Lara.

“All right, yeah” Sam said before promptly doing something else embarrassing around Lara, “So, uh... Can you, maybe, give me my underwear?” She only barely resisted giving Lara another eyebrow wiggle.

“Incorrigible” Lara repeated, shaking her head. Not to be drawn back into Sam's designs on flustering her, she stood from the bed, and tossed the black bra she'd chosen for Sam vaguely in the direction of her face. Ducking behind the cover, Sam just chuckled. When she looked out again, Lara was leaving the room, and closing the door behind her. “Get dressed, Sam. I'm making tea.”

Sam waited for the door to close before taking a look at the bra Lara had picked out for her. It was fairly plain. Just a black bra. She pulled it into the blankets, putting her arms through the straps as she did, and quickly fastened it at the back. Then she bounced across Lara's bed to where the rest of the clothes had ended up in a small pile; there was no way she was getting out of that blanket anything less than fully clothed, if she could avoid it.

She quickly inspected the rest of the clothes. She pulled on the form hugging black sweater. She was grateful for Lara's choice, given the weather, even if she'd hoped for something a little more daring. There had been no adventure at all in the bra, and she wondered if Lara had chosen the first thing she'd found to appease her. She found the panties Lara was chosen for her, and pulled them on as well. They were just like the bra, plain, and black. It made her smile when she realized that they  _matched._ Lara, Lara, Lara, she thought, and mentally tutted. Last were the jeans, and jacket. The jeans were a comfy set of low risers, with no holes, she noted thankfully. She'd never admit it to Lara out loud, but she'd been right that the holes were not fit for English winter. The jacket she hadn't been expecting. 

Once she'd dressed herself in the rest, she hopped out of Lara's bed, and held the jacket up in front of herself to have a good look at. It was actually really nice, and she wasn't sure why she didn't wear it more. It took the whole outfit Lara had picked out for her from boring to just a bit edgy. She put it on, and turned to use the mirror on the closet door. She found herself enjoying the half adventurer, half rocker feel it gave her. She also had always liked the smell of leather anyway. It was a shame it had three quarter length sleeves, she'd either have to change her shirt, and have cold arms, or wear another jacket. It turned out not to be a hard decision. She pulled off her jacket and sweater, and tossed them both onto the bed, then opened Lara's dresser.

Less than a minute later, she was strutting out of Lara's room in full dress. She was eager to show herself off to Lara, in Lara's shirt. She found her roomie just where she'd expected; at their small dining table in the kitchen, in the chair nearest the wall. She had her legs crossed, and was kicking her foot to a tune Sam could barely hear her humming. Quickly and quietly as she could, Sam scooped her phone off of their banged up old coffee table. This, at least, she could record.

She stepped slowly closer, Lara had noticed her, but not that she was being recorded. Sam was pretending to be checking her texts to keep Lara comfortably unaware. Sam felt a little guilty for the deception, but she told herself that she'd never share the video, and that if Lara was all right with Sam seeing her like this once, reliving the moment in private was harmless. She leaned against the doorway with her shoulder, and kept her phone up at an angle that wasn't too suspicious. From there she watched Lara in silence.

Lara was staring out the kitchen window, past her kettle, and whispering music through her closed mouth. Sam wished she had something better than her phone, but it was the gorgeous sort of candid shot Lara would never have let her have. Sadly it came to an end, Lara's voice trailed off into silence and she looked up at Sam from her chair curiously.

“You look sharp” she said with a small smile. Sam put her phone away, and scratched at the back of her neck. It was about as sterile a compliment as one could get, and she could still feel it stirring her feelings. 

“Thanks” she managed. Lara's eyes had taken her in, head to toe, but she wanted to display herself to Lara, anyway. “I had to borrow one of your shirts” she said, and stepped out of the doorway to spread her arms and spin once in place. She opened the jacket Lara had picked for her to show off the shirt she'd chosen, and how she'd wrapped the belt Lara picked over top of it, rather than using it to fasten her pants; they were plenty tight anyway.

The shirt was black, with a geometric white design on it that  _might_ have been a band logo that Sam couldn't read. It dipped at the chest, but where Sam's cleavage would have been on display white fabric covered her. 

“Two of my shirts,” Lara corrected her with a smirk. Sam smiled questioningly at Lara as she finished showing off, she hoped it was okay.

Lara had received the black shirt as a gift from their mutual friend Alex. Sam liked him, he was friendly, but he had a deep affection for Lara that Sam sometimes worried she might return. He'd bought the shirt for Lara at a concert he'd wanted to take her to. A band she liked, and that he probably didn't know existed a week before the show, had been playing. Sam had managed to talk Lara out of it, and in truth it hadn't been hard, but he'd brought her back a shirt. It was a perpetual reminder to her of Alex, and his intentions. She'd chosen it on purpose; their friends would recognize it, and she wanted to be seen in Lara's shirt.

“It probably looks better on you,” was Lara's appraisal “I kind of wish you'd wear it more.” Sam blushed, and rocked back and forth on her heels. She was about to speak when Lara continued, “You're out to start a rumor, aren't you, Sam?” Sam stayed quiet, but the rocking on her heels stopped. She hid behind her fringe, it was becoming more of a habit around Lara. She gave a small, quick nod, and closed her eyes. She didn't have it in her to lie, not to Lara, not about anything important. So, she braced for the consequences.

“All right,” that had not been what Sam expected to hear, she opened one of her eyes cautiously, “but you'll freeze in that.”

“The jacket was too short for the sweater”, she explained, opening her second eye, and beginning to feel the tension pass. She was beginning to wonder what boundaries Lara truly had. She returned Lara's smirk, “Besides, I give you the chance to dress me however you like, and you go for librarian? Trying to keep me hidden away?”

Lara's reply was a quick, honest “Maybe.” Sam's jaw dropped. It was beginning to make sense to Sam why she hadn't gotten more trouble for taking Lara's shirt. She supposed Lara didn't have it in her to lie to her, either. They shared a look, and Lara was giving her a smile that looked apologetic. Her brows were raised just a bit, like she was worried she'd done something wrong. Sam shook her head, they were tragic. She smiled back, unsure whether she managed to look any more sure of herself than Lara did.

They were interrupted by the screaming kettle. Again. This time Sam was grateful for it, though. “You should dress, too” she told Lara. “I really want to see you in the shirt I picked.” Lara's smile brightened and she nodded, getting to her feet.

As she walked under the holly she said “I'll need your help picking out the rest of my clothes, besides, it's only fair.” She shot Sam a look, and added “I'll be picking my own knickers.” Sam could only laugh, raise her hands in surrender, and shake her head.

“Well, I already picked your shirt, so that leaves what? I'm picking your pants?” she asked as she crashed down into the chair opposite where Lara had been. She saw Lara shoot her a surprised look over her shoulder. A moment of realization later her roomie rolled her eyes at herself.

“ _Trousers_ , Sam. Trousers.” Lara corrected her as if the word “pants” was some horrible thing they couldn't say out loud. Sam thought it was cute. “But, when you put it that way, it does seem silly.” Lara added. Sam leaned forward to give her a hopeful look. She could see Lara's cheeks coloring themselves in immediately. A sharp, but laughter filled “no!” was Lara's immediate response. Sam tried not to laugh, so that she could shoot Lara her most dramatic set of puppy eyes, but she just couldn't hold it in. So, they laughed together, and Lara turned to head for her room. A moment later she heard “tea is officially your job, payback for making me deal with you all morning!” from down the hall, as Lara closed her door. 

She got to her feet with a half-hearted grumble. Lara had already warmed the teapot, so Sam put in some loose tea leaves, then filled the pot with enough water for four cups. Boring as the act seemed, she found it oddly meditative. She would have one to humor Lara, but the rest was for her friend. She thought about Lara, her friend. Best friend, in fact. She thought about what she'd said when they'd been so close to kissing. It hadn't been what she'd wanted to hear. She sighed while picking out a pair of mugs. Lara's said “piss off” on the side. No punctuation, no fancy font, no pretty picture. White mug, black letters. Sam liked that mug. She set it down while she waited on the tea, and replayed Lara's lips on her cheek over again in her head.

It certainly had not felt like a platonic kiss, even if it was just on the cheek. She thought about how Lara had acted once she'd been caught, as she put it. No matter how much she told herself that maybe she'd misunderstood her, Lara's actions pointed to something more than they'd ever admitted to each other before. But she couldn't kiss her. Not  _right now_ , she thought. 

She covered Lara's teapot in the worn out cosy that her friend refused to replace, and forced herself to shrug. She didn't want to worry about something she could do nothing about. She turned to walk through the living room, and found that she couldn't do much else. She reminded herself that Lara had also said she loved her. Thinking about that gave her the warmest feeling, it didn't banish her worries, but it made them seem insignificant. “You know that, right?” she repeated aloud for herself. Lara had been so reassuring. In a way it seemed like they were already together.

Yet, she still felt completely rattled when she reached Lara's door, and took a moment to steady herself. Her heart rate had jumped again without her permission. She forced herself to give another shrug for no one in particular to see, and then knocked.

“I'm decent!” she heard, and opened the door. As she stepped inside Lara turned from her mirror to smile at her. Sam opened her mouth to speak, but settled for wetting her lips. Her mouth closed, and she took Lara in from toe to top. Lara was wearing her shirt; it was black, sleek, and bared her neck, shoulders, and collarbone. It was fairly modest despite that, concealing and supporting her bust, and having long sleeves, which ended in flares halfway past her elbows. It was a bit long on her, so she'd copied Sam's style, and worn a belt over top of it. Pulling the shirt tighter to her waist meant Lara's hips were on display, a detail that caught Sam's lingering eye for an extended moment. To go with the shirt, Lara had chosen reasonably tight blue jeans, and plain white cotton socks. Her hair hung loose over her shoulders, as if trying to cover them.

“You look good”, Sam settled on after a moment.

“Thanks” Lara said as Sam walked closer, and reached a hand up toward Lara's shoulders. She hesitated a moment, but Lara didn't move or react. Taking that as permission, Sam touched Lara's hair where it was draped over her shoulders, shifting it over to her back, or bunching it and lifting it. More than once the backs of her knuckles slid down along Lara's neck, or over the rise of her shoulder. It couldn't be helped, but Sam wouldn't deny enjoying the touch, either. Occasionally when it happened, she would look away from her work, to Lara's face, but Lara had closed her eyes nearly as soon as Sam touched her hair. Sam thought she looked very calm, and relaxed. It made her remember what Lara had done to her on the couch, just by stroking her hair and scalp. She smiled to herself at the memory.

“You should wear your hair up” Sam suggested. Lara's lips pursed, and she managed a frown without opening her eyes.

“It is a bit messy, isn't it?”

“A bit” Sam admitted cheerfully, “but it's not that, your hair looks really good that way, I just want to be able to fully appreciate... The shirt.”

“The shirt?” Lara asked suspiciously, and opened her eyes just enough to narrow them at Sam, who nodded, doing her best to look not-entirely-innocent.

“All right, then” Lara conceded, and snatched a hair tie off of the top of her dresser. She put her hands behind her head and began gathering her hair, but stopped when Sam's fingertips touched her wrist.

“Can I?”, she asked as nonchalantly as she could manage. She lowered her chin so that she could look up at Lara as she had in the bathroom, slowly building up the pieces of a sad puppy face, something she knew Lara was helpless against. It turned out to be unnecessary, though, Lara stopped, and placed the tie into Sam's hand without hesitation. Then she turned from Sam to let her friend work.

Sam bounced happily on her heels once Lara couldn't see her. She adored Lara's hair, Lara in general, but her hair was definitely also highly appreciable, being allowed to handle it was one of those small, close things that Lara only seemed to share with her. “I could braid this, you know...” she let her thought trail off as she gathered Lara's hair together, but didn't tie it, just in case Lara went for it.

“No, thanks, Sam. That sounds lovely, but there'll be a keg at this party, I don't feel obligated to look especially fancy.” Sam shrugged, and carefully centered Lara's ponytail, drawing out the action by being as gentle, careful, and precise as she could be. She just thought she'd have to try again another time.

With the deed done, Lara turned to face her before Sam had even removed her hands. They landed so that they were resting on Lara's shoulders, at either side of her neck. In the bright light of the bedroom, everything from Lara's statuesque jawline to her chiseled clavicle was on display. Sam's hands wandered along the inviting expanse of flawless skin unprompted by any conscious thought of her own. She stroked one of Lara's smooth shoulders while her other hand slid easily up the back of her neck. Lara's eyes fell closed at the unsolicited touching, and Sam felt drawn to close the distance between them, to touch and feel Lara's beautiful neck with her lips. But she couldn't, she realized.

Her hands withdrew, and she took a moment to capture the landscape of Lara's shoulders to her memory. She'd seen them before, but had never felt so strongly about them, or so invited to them. She held her gaze on Lara. It actually kind of sucked, not being able to touch her. She didn't let it show on her face, Lara always caught her when she felt bad about anything, but this time Lara's eyes were closed, and Sam put her sadness away before it could be seen. She had a right to it, she thought, being so close, but held in limbo, it kind of hurt.

Lara opened her eyes after a moment, and gave her a warm smile. Sam took another second to make sure she'd remember every detail of how she looked. Her own smile grew without any conscious effort, and she grinned at her friend. She was happy, still. She knew Lara loved her, she just wished she wouldn't do it from a distance.

“You're gorgeous” she told her best friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks a lot for reading this chapter! If anyone was a bit confused over Lara's panic at the word "pants", please refer here:
> 
> http://ipodger.tumblr.com/post/80982664852/in-which-pants-mean-underwear-in-british
> 
> iPodger's art is amazing and adorable, I demand you witness it for yourself.


	4. Too Fast

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It just keeps getting longer. I may be too ambitious for my own good.

As she entered her room Lara remembered the tea she'd been making. “Tea is officially your job, payback for making me deal with you all morning!” she called to Sam over her shoulder, and closed her door.

Once inside, she tossed her dressing gown onto her, many thanks to Sam, perpetually messy bed. Her head shook as she remembered Sam complaining about the cold. It didn't seem so bad to her, though it was brisk enough to encourage her to dress swiftly. She picked up Sam's shopping bag from the floor where she'd set it and looked inside. The top was nothing like she had worried it might be; it would show off less of her than some of her own tops did, and it was also very soft and pleasant to touch. She did note with some hesitation, however, that the bare shoulders and built in support meant it was not meant to have a proper bra worn underneath it. That was a clothing choice she never would have made for herself, but she couldn't turn back, and besides, it was very nice otherwise. She pulled it on.

Inspecting herself in the mirror, Lara had to admit to herself Sam had picked out a very nice top for her. That it's bare shoulders and construction strongly implied underclothes were to be strapless or not worn at all was a detail she was not fond of, but which she decided she would respect. Mostly because Sam would have made her change otherwise. Still, she kept her hair loose to try to cover her shoulders, and went about looking for the rest of her clothes.

She smiled as she finished dressing herself. She should have been fed up, but she was entirely _happy._ Sam. It was Sam's doing. Sam had decorated their flat, and tried to kiss her underneath the Holly. Sam had decided they'd go to a Christmas keg party. Sam had been beautiful and sweet, and then wound her up mercilessly and sent her to fetch her clothes. And then she'd returned to find her bed a mess, _again,_ with Sam happily nude in the middle of it all. She sighed, trying not to indulge her thoughts further; she knew she was only making things more difficult for herself. She needed tea. Which she had Sam making for her. It was subtle payback for the video she knew Sam had taken of her.

Lara had been pointedly aware of Sam recording her. She'd simply chosen to pretend otherwise. It was an old, and happy habit she'd formed. She'd never really disliked being recorded, so much as she'd disliked people _seeing_ the recording, and Sam? Sam kept all of her candid snaps for herself. Lara liked the idea of Sam being happy as she privately relived those moments. A knock at her door interrupted her thoughts.

“I'm decent!” she called through the closed door to Sam. When her friend entered she looked for a long moment like she might say something. Instead she licked her lips quickly and closed her mouth, leaving Lara disappointed that she wouldn't get to hear Sam's thoughts. She told herself it was for the best, if the look on Sam's face had been an indication, hearing her thoughts might have pushed Lara over the edge.

“You look good” was what Sam eventually said. The tension broke, and Lara thanked her. Sam might not have heard it, though, she looked to be deep in thought as she stepped closer to Lara, and lifted her hands toward her shoulders. When Sam hesitated for a moment, Lara very subtly lifted her chin, and her friend continued.

She felt Sam's hands slide over her shoulders to fuss about with her hair. They seemed to be trying to sort out how and where it would look best, but the attention was laced with small, gentle touches along her sensitive neck and shoulders. Lara's eyes closed, unbidden by any conscious thought of her own. She couldn't be arsed to open them again, and besides, whether she'd meant to or not, she was enjoying herself. Relaxing was easy with Sam.

“You should wear your hair up”, was what Sam said in the end, and Lara thought she was probably right. She normally wore her hair up anyway, it was easier than spending time styling it, and it kept it out of the way; she'd only had to catch some hair in the zip of her jacket _once_ to know it was not an experience she'd relive on purpose. The end result was that left to its own devices, her hair was a touch unruly.

“It is a bit messy, isn't it?” she said, knowing full well that it was. It was wild, thick, and uneven.

“A bit”, Sam said, Lara could hear the smile in her voice, “but it's not that, your hair looks really good that way. I just want to be able to fully appreciate... The shirt.” Lara tried to look stern when she opened her eyes enough to narrow them. Tried. She adored Sam's frankness too much to truly be cross with her. And if she was as honest with herself as Sam had been, the compliment was nice, too.

She poured mock suspicion into her voice when she spoke, “the shirt?” she repeated, playing along with Sam's play at innocence. Sam was giving her a shameless look. “All right, then” she conceded.

Taking a hair tie off of her dresser, Lara began bunching her hair at the back of her head as she often did. She stopped when she felt Sam's fingertips touch her wrist, and saw her looking hopefully toward the would be ponytail.

“Can I?” she asked sheepishly. Lara pushed the tie into Sam's palm and turned around. She crossed her arms and leaned her head forward to let Sam work. Sam liked that sort of thing, and Lara felt like it was nice to have someone do that for her, even if it was simple enough to do herself. To her mind grooming was a subtly intimate thing to share, and to bond over. Which meant it was a shame that, even though Sam took her sweet time enjoying the moment, it would probably end too quickly.

“I could braid this, you know...”, Sam said, and Lara found herself tempted. No one had braided her hair since she'd been a girl, and it would prolong the moment. In the end she frowned to herself and declined.

“No, thanks Sam”, she said, “that sounds lovely, but there'll be a keg at this party. I don't feel obligated to look especially fancy.” Behind her Sam held still for a moment, but seemed to accept the answer. She felt Sam handling her hair, gently but firmly pulling it tight and shifting the tie into place.

Hair up, neck and shoulders unveiled, Lara turned back around to face Sam. Perhaps a bit too quickly; Sam hadn't withdrawn her hands yet, and they landed on Lara's shoulders again. They didn't retreat, either. Sam's palm's flattened against her, and slowly began to move over what new skin had been exposed. It felt nice, and she didn't want it to stop, so she encouraged it; she closed her eyes again. This time it was of her own will. A hand slid up the side of her neck, and she could feel the tiny variances in pressure of Sam's fingertips on the back of her neck. They occasionally brushed against her skin, but stopped short of more. After a few moments Sam's hands pulled themselves away.

Restraint, another new habit Sam had formed with her. It occurred to her in that moment she wasn't fond of that one. She tried to chalk it up to the state Sam's antics had left her in, but she _wanted_ to be touched, and she wanted it to be as easy for Sam was it was for her. And it couldn't, because of the state Sam could put her in.

When she opened her eyes Sam was studying her intensely. She had a thoughtful look to her, the sort she usually wore while analysing someone else's camera work, Lara adored that look. She could see Sam's eyes darting from corner to corner of the scene, and she realised she was having her portrait taken. She could feel her skin beginning to warm at the thought.

Sam was capturing her somewhere between a crisp digital image and the fuzzy brush strokes of memory, and doing it with intent and affection. The look faded after a few moments, but the tingly touch of imagined paint brushes on her neck and shoulders lingered on the edges of Lara's consciousness. She'd never been looked at like that before. She'd received appreciative looks, but just then she felt like _art._

“You're gorgeous”, Sam said earnestly. It was unusual for her to say something like that without playfulness, teasing, or at least a laugh. It left Lara speechless, and simultaneously aware that she _should_ say something. Her jaw worked quietly for a moment, and the heat under her skin grew more intense. Sam seemed to think find her gobsmacked silence was good enough, because she smiled while rocking on her heels. “Tea is ready” she said, and that was that. The pressure was off, and Lara was left glowing red over what should have been a casual compliment.

Sam bent her arm across her middle, silently gesturing for Lara to get a move on. Once she'd collected herself they headed from Lara's bedroom and back to the kitchen. Lara fell into her chair, and Sam practically threw herself into her own. It was then that Lara began to focus on her with a look. Sam sighed before it gained any intensity and held her hands up in surrender. “Right. My job. For making you deal with me.”

Lara found herself feeling a bit bad for having said that. She hadn't meant it, but supposed it had been insensitive in hindsight. She stiffened her lips to stifle her frown until Sam had turned to de-cosy the teapot.

“Thank you, Sam”, she said after a moment. Sam turned to look at her over her shoulder, her expression was questioning. Lara just smiled at her, leaving her gratitude open to Sam's interpretation, and earning herself a sweet smile from Sam in turn. It made her feel better.

“You're welcome”, Sam said happily while sitting in her chair and placing their mugs in front of them. They only had one each, and Sam's mug had a “Garfield” comic strip across it. Lara wasn't quite sure where she'd managed to find it. Lara held her mug up to her chin, and blew gently over the top of it. She could feel the steam warming her stuffy nose, a relieved sigh escaped her lips.

They drank their tea in silence; Sam was quiet, and Lara couldn't think of much to say. It wasn't uncomfortable, though, and Lara disliked small talk. She always preferred that talk had substance, or at least energy. Sam never disappointed her when it came to conversation. That meant that sometimes there was nothing to say, and that was fine.

Sam was still nursing her tea when Lara finished her mug; it had to cool a few more degrees for Sam to find it palatable. That was something that Lara took a small bit of very British pride in. She smiled, feeling just a touch smug, despite her runny nose. She sniffled a bit to keep it in check, and Sam chose to make eye contact with her at that exact moment. The small gesture stole the smugness from Lara, leaving her with a small bit of nervousness instead.

“Excuse me”, she said, and went off to blow her nose. She could hear Sam's amused chuckling coming from behind her, and sighed. She blew her nose, and checked herself in the mirror. The redness was a bit worse than it had been, and her eyes were a bit puffy. Seeing herself like that, she wondered why Sam had been trying to kiss her at all. She opened the cabinet, looking for cough syrup or the like, but already knowing they had none. She'd looked the night before, as well. She did spot one of Sam's eye liner pencils, though.

She considered using it for about three seconds before she remembered how much she hated applying it. She lingered on it anyway, thinking that Sam might appreciate it, but eventually decided that Sam was a mad woman who had been trying to kiss her stuffy, puffy self without it, cold and all. The thought provoked a grin, and she happily strolled out of the bathroom and back to the table for another cuppa.

After tea they split up, with Sam heading to a mirror, and Lara taking a moment to wash the mugs and antique teapot. When she was done she sat back down in her chair to wait for Sam while appreciating the job she'd done decorating. She knew it wouldn't be long, Sam could do her make up while _driving._ It was a habit Lara was vehemently against, but she had to admit it was as impressive as it was terrifying. As predicted, Sam appeared shortly after. She wandered to Lara's chair and, once she had her friend's attention, tilted her head to display her handiwork. Lara smiled. Sam didn't look any different than she usually did with make up, but she nodded appreciatively.

“You're gorgeous”, she told Sam, intentionally reusing the phrase Sam had practically weaponised against her earlier. She meant it, too, even if she used it with less weight.

“Yes, yes I am”, Sam replied confidently, Lara could see the awkward grin that stretched across her cheeks when she turned her head, though. “Ready to go?”

Lara took her feet, stretching out her spine and shoulders once she was upright. “I suppose this is as ready as I'm going to be” she offered.

Together they collected their things, rum among them, and headed to the door to collect their boots from the closet. Lara quickly laced her hikers, pulled on a grey windbreaker, and spent the requisite two solid minutes standing by the door pretending not to judge Sam as she struggled with the zips on the sides of her less practically minded footwear. She considered it a trade off, the upside being that Sam sometimes asked for her help taking them off.

With one insurmountable obstacle conquered they stepped outside their flat. It was Lara who locked the door. “Are we taking the tube, then?” she asked as they walked the hall to the stairs.

“Thought I'd drive”, Sam replied.

Lara didn't like the sound of that,“can't we take the tube?” Her brow creased with concern. The weather had been bad, and Sam's tires could use a change.

“The _subway_ has been flooded, Lara. Don't you watch the news?” Sam used emphasis to fire another shot in their constant war to each convert the other to their own dialect. Not that either really wanted to win.  
“Wot?” she caught herself saying again. She saw Sam's lips twitch in amusement. “Flooded?” she asked more clearly.

“How bad is that cold, anyway? And yeah, the weather's terrible.” That Sam didn't follow that up with a joke such as “isn't it always?” troubled Lara.

“Maybe we could stay in?” she suggested. Sam gave her a look, and she knew she wasn't getting out of things that easily. “Driving it is, then.”

They stepped out into the sheltered parking lot, and immediately the sound of wind howling through the enclosure hit Lara's ears, behind it the blurred splashing of heavy rains into slushy streets. The weather was worse than she'd expected, and it struck a powerful contrast to their comfortable flat with its colourful lights. Her awareness focused pointedly on the short sleeves of the jacket she'd picked for Sam and felt guilt welling in her lungs. She suppressed it as they jogged to Sam's car.

Inside the vehicle they were shielded from the wind, but not the cold. Sam turned the ignition, and rapidly turned the heat and fan dials to their right-most extreme. In her seat, Lara did her best to remain still and passive. She shuddered briefly from the cold, but mostly, she thought, managed to seem less than bothered. Sam on the other hand was rubbing her palms together and blowing clouds of steamy breath over her hands while she waited for the engine to warm. Lara reached toward the auxiliary cable connected to the car stereo, Sam immediately swatted at her hand. They exchanged glances.

“Oh, no. Last time you played at DJ I could've gotten a speeding ticket”, Sam said, all but waving her finger. Lara put a hand over her chest to both feign indignation and stifle the laugh that shivered through her lungs.

“Sorry love? That's the fault of my music and not your driving?” she said through her grin, eyebrows climbing her forehead as she made her point.

“...Well, music sets the mood, and it was fast”. Sam crossed her arms, and began preparing a mighty mock pout. Lara wasn't about to relent just then.

“We both know you loved that song, but all right, I'll play something mellow”, she offered with practised neutrality. Sam's pout fell apart, into a grimace.

“Ugh, no! Your _mellow_ will crush my soul into powder and snort it. I'll never be happy again.” Laughter from Lara nearly drowned out the last part of her complaint; to Lara's ear Sam sounded legitimately exasperated, and that was wonderful. She also saw with no small amount of pleasure that Sam was no longer fidgeting or shivering, instead she was laughing with Lara. Their conversation was keeping them warm.

“You're being so dramatic! You make it sound like I listen to whinging pop rock!” she said, feeling like she had to yell over her own laughter for Sam to hear her. She held up the cable to Sam in surrender. “Very well, then. We can't have you driving too fast in this weather, after all.”

“Hey, there's nothing wrong with pop rock”, Sam insisted, probably purely for the sake of disagreement Lara thought; she'd never known Sam to listen to anything of the sort. Sam enthusiastically took up the auxiliary cable and hooked it into the jack of her phone. A few seconds later Lara recognised Scarlett Johansson's cover of Falling Down.

“I'm the one who showed you this song, am I not?” she complained immediately. Sam had already put on her seatbelt and was shifting the car into gear. Lara strapped herself in as well.

“Yes, but you might not have played it”, was Sam's reply. Lara could only smile and roll her eyes. It was true, she had been in the mood for something a bit more uplifting and energetic. She shrugged as she felt her nose beginning to run again. She sniffled, turning her head toward her window to hide the motion of checking under her nose for any leaks. “Tissue is in the glovebox”, Sam reminded her. Lara opened the compartment, fetching a sheet of tissue which she used to sparingly dab at her nostrils.

They spent most of the short drive quietly listening to Sam's phone shuffle through the three or so songs it took for them to get to their destination, and letting the calm music set the tone of their ride. They occasionally reminded one another of necessities they needed to pick up whenever they passed related stores along the streets. Lara picked out at least one song by John Murphy, as well. Of course Sam had film music on her phone, of course.

In short order they pulled off of Upper Woburn and onto Endsleigh Place. They parked beside a meter in the shadow of a block of flats, and Lara took a moment to size up Sam's eagerness, or lack thereof, to step out into the storm.

“Ready?” she asked. Sam nodded. They each completed their own mental three count, and opened their doors.

The blast of freezing rain that met them could be conservatively described as extremely uncomfortable, and the wind behind it didn't help matters. Lara covered her brow with her forearm, and waited for Sam to splash her way around the car to lead the way. She fell into step at Sam's side, they rounded the corner. They rushed past a man whose umbrella upturned itself in the wind, and into the foyer of the high rise.

Lara recognised the building; When they had decided to move in together for their second year Sam had wanted them to live there instead of in the small flat they had ended up sharing. It was closer to their university, and the living spaces were much nicer. Oak wood, and spacious. Too expensive for her earnings, though.

Sam punched a number into the buzzer, announced their presence, and the doors unlocked, allowing them entry. They called the elevator, and as they stepped inside Lara caught herself looking sidelong to Sam to gauge her confidence. At first it seemed silly, Sam was always confident, but she looked anyway. Sam adjusted her clothes, pulling them back into place so that they fit nicely after being blasted about by the wind and rain. When she was done she leaned back against the mirrored glass in the elevator and chewed at her fingertips. Perhaps, Lara thought, Sam was feeling nervous as well? She unzipped her windbreaker, unintentionally drawing Sam's eyes to herself. Immediately her thoughts returned to the feeling of those eyes roaming over the space of her exposed neck, and she looked away from Sam.

With a sharp “ding” the elevator announced their arrival. Sam led the way to a handsome wooden door, behind which Lara could barely hear the familiar sounds of music and garbled speaking. That was heartening at least, a party in a flat couldn't very well afford to get out of hand. Sam knocked on the door. On a whim Lara pushed her hand closer to the one hanging at Sam's side. The backs of their hands touched and she shifted her fingers just slightly so that they touched either side of Sam's middle digit. She felt the twitching of Sam's fingers reciprocating the gesture, and moved her hand around Sam's so that their palms met. Their fingers interlocked with one another seamlessly. When she heard Sam release a breath she squeezed gently, and took in one of her own. The door opened.

Standing in the doorway was a young woman Lara wasn't sure she'd seen before. She allowed her lack of certainty to speak for her, and settled on silence so as not to embarrass herself, just in case. The girl had short, blond hair that stuck out in a sort of purposeful messiness. It was quite thick, and reminded Lara of a duckling's down feathers. Her eyes were so blue they bordered on grey, she had thin, glossy pink lips, and she wore a white dress shirt with the collar popped, and black slacks.

“Sam! Alright, darling?” she asked, clearly pleased. Lara found herself taking immediate dislike to the familiarity her tone suggested. She did her best to dismiss the ugly feeling.

“Just fine, Beth, a bit wet, but fine”, Sam said with a bit of very American hesitation. Their apparent host placed a hand over her chest and laughed briefly.

“And this must be the elusive Lara Croft?” she said, making a sweeping motion with her hand. Lara forced something she thought might resemble a smile into place on her lips and nodded.

“Sam's mentioned me?” Lara guessed. It made smiling easier, and Beth, their apparent host quickly confirmed the truth.

“Oh, yes. Why sh-” she began, but was cut short.

“In passing”, Sam said quickly. Lara could feel the grip on her hand tightening just a little; Sam knew she was fooling absolutely no one. Her eyes were downcast, and she looked anxious, though, so for the moment Lara decided to spare her.

“Of course. I suppose we have some good stories about our hiking trips”, she offered to Sam as a safe course of exit.

“Yeah, I didn't even know this country _had_ bears”, Sam complained emphatically, latching onto the escape. “I would have slept in that tree, I swear”.

“Apparently not with me on the ground”, Lara replied. “We never even saw a bear, anyway”.

“Well, then”, their host interjected, “come inside? I shall like to hear all about this over drinks”. She stepped back, holding the door open. Lara was certain she saw Beth's eyes take a moment to focus on her hand where it was linked with Sam's. Despite the look, when their hands separated, it was with hesitation on both sides.

None the less, the pair crossed the threshold, and began removing their boots. More specifically, Lara took hers off, and Sam handed her the bag containing the rum, and entered into a mortal struggle with her footwear. Lara had to wonder just what Sam _had_ said about her, however. She chose not to dwell on it, but to note it down for later.

“There's not much more to tell, I'm afraid”, Lara told their host as she loosened her laces. “Sam thought some of the measures I took to protect our food were unnecessary, I explained that bears had been reintroduced to the area... And well she took it rather poorly.”

“Did she?”, Beth asked. Sam shrugged innocently, and flashed a self conscious grin.

“I think perhaps she just wanted to climb the tree”, Lara said. She believed it, too. She knew Sam to have surprisingly sturdy nerves, the tree struck her as more a product of Sam's spontaneity than any real fear. “I probably wouldn't have climbed after her had she not convinced me she were scared, it turned out to be a lot of fun”. Yes, smiling was much easier when talking about Sam.

“Well, it's good to finally meet you, Lara”, Beth said before asking “can I get you a drink?” Lara shook her head in reply. Either her or Sam had to drive them home. She hadn't discussed the decision with Sam, but figured she might as well drive. She was fine with letting Sam have her fun, and drinking with people she didn't know wasn't a habit of hers. Beth excused herself, and Lara waited for Sam, missing no offered chance to give her friend a smug look.

With her boots off, Lara took a moment to look around. The inside of the apartment was much like she expected. Spacious, and open, with hardwood floors. It had been sparingly decorated. A set of black couches stood on a grey rug in the living room just ahead of them, beside one couch stood a short, artificial Christmas tree. On the couches sat a number of people. Some of the faces were familiar, most weren't, she could only put a name to one. Others mingled about the room, playing beer pong at one of the two tables set up for the game, or setting up a gaming console in the next room. There was a bar standing near the door to the balcony, lined with coloured lights, and on the bar a stereo was playing a electronic music by an artist she didn't recognise. Lastly, but standing out prominently to Lara's eye, a sprig of mistletoe, real mistletoe, hung from the ceiling near the bar by a silver string.

From the couch their friend Alex, the one person to whom she could put a name, was waving his arm like the tail of a puppy. Lara waved back, nodding her head to him. Sam appeared at her side, boots finally defeated, and waved as well. At her appearance several other people stuck their hands in the air in greeting.

“Sam”, Lara said as inconspicuously as she could manage while still sounding stern, “when you said 'friends of friends' I assumed I'd know them”.

“After a few drinks and some mingling you will”, Sam said with a smirk, having once again turned the tables of smugness on her.

“And who do you suppose will drive us home?” Lara copied Sam's smirk as she pointed this out, determined to once again be on the winning side of their affectionate war.

“I call a designated driver from drive-u-home, duh”, Sam returned. Lara couldn't help but make a grumbling noise in her throat at the subtle way Sam's chin lifted with pride as she spoke.

“I see...”, she conceded, “but I'm still feeling poorly, I don't think I'll be drinking too much”. Sam shrugged, allowing her smirk to soften.

“I know, sweetie, I just want you to have fun”, she said. Lara felt her smirk twisting into an involuntary smile. She couldn't help it. She looked at the ceiling, shook her head, and just let it happen.

“All right, Sam. I will” she promised.

“Good!” came the enthusiastic reply. “I'm gonna help with the keg. Coming with?” With a nod, Lara consented to Sam's mad plan. Her hand was taken and she found herself being led, possibly dragged, about the flat. She set the bottle of rum they brought on the bar as she passed, it seemed polite to share if she was being treated to beer by their host.

In short order they passed the couches and around a large, and expensive looking, dining table to where a tall grey metal barrel near four feet tall stood. Sam filled two plastic cups, and thrust one out for Lara to take.

“What's the brand?” Lara asked, taking a moment to smell the drink.

“You're the bartender, taste it and guess”, Sam teased. “Impress me!”

Lara rolled her eyes good naturedly, saying “it's just a job, Sam. Sorry to disappoint”, and holding her cup out for Sam to knock hers against. “Cheers”, she said.

“Cheers”, Sam bumped her drink against Lara's. They took their first gulp in unison, and, without lowering their cups from their mouths, their second. It became near immediately clear to Lara as her eyes met Sam's over the slowly rising brims of their cups that they'd entered into another impromptu challenge with one another.

Lara raised her cup all the way, so that the bottom was higher than the lip, and quickly hauled back her half pint, leaving Sam still drinking when she swallowed the last and lowered her empty drink.

“On second thought, that's definitely Carling”, Lara amended with measured disappointment. Just enough, she hoped, for Sam, and only Sam, to notice. She sniffled against her runny nose as Sam finished her drink, and watched as she took a moment to look around before wiping her mouth as covertly as possible with her wrist. It was cute; messy imperfection her friend wanted to go unseen.

“And you doubted yourself” Sam said once she'd regained her breath. Lara gave her a modest shrug in reply.

“Someone has to, if I listened to you all the time I'd have a rather big head, wouldn't I?” She looked down into her drink as she said it, eyes only peeking back up at Sam's expression after she'd finished.

Sam looked like she was going to say something, but didn't get the chance; a mutual friend of theirs from university stepped up to the keg to pour himself another drink.

“Hey! Lara, haven't seen you in a minute”, Alex said with poorly hidden excitement. He gave Sam an acknowledging nod, and friendly smile. Lara noticed that his expression dipped a bit as he spotted the top Sam was wearing under her jacket. She also saw the corner of Sam's lips twitch.

“Hello”, Lara said in a friendly tone. Sam replied with a small wave, but Lara could couldn't help but be amused watching Sam strike a confident posture with her hand on a projected hip, and her shoulders wide to more prominently display the top she'd nicked. She waited for Alex to finish filling his cup before pouring another for herself.

“Didn't think you listened to them? The party would be a bit livelier if you got the aux' cord, eh?”

“Oh, def”, Sam said while turning to refill her drink, “But the neighbours might disapprove”.

“Ah... True”, Alex said while making a gesture to toast Lara. She showed him her empty cup and gave a small lift of her shoulders in response. He retracted his drink and sipped it. “Got a favourite track?” he asked Sam as she turned back around with her drink. He offered to toast with her, as well. She bumped their cups together and took a small sip while nodding.

“Of course, of course”, she said while her eyes shifted to the side to confront Lara's own. A silence began to stretch between the three as Alex waited, apparently expecting a definitive answer.

“Don't get her started” Lara said. “I had to turn off D.N.R. in the car because she was driving too fast”, she rolled her eyes as if properly annoyed. “How about you, Alex?” She turned to refill her own cup as she shifted the focus of the conversation. She didn't need to see Alex to know he looked like a deer in the headlights.

“Uh...” she could hear him saying. “The Legacy is pretty tight”.

“Yes. Yes it is”, she agreed, turning around. She saw Sam had fished her phone out of her pocket and was aiming it at her. She blinked at the phone as if it were standing in her way and she was busy. After a moment Sam lowered the phone, having apparently gotten her picture.

“Photo evidence of you having a good time”, she explained. Despite herself Lara smiled, shaking her head. “Couldn't have done that in the picture, huh?” She only had to shoot Sam a brief look to stifle any further remark.

A buzz of arhythmic clapping exploded nearby, one of the tables where people had been playing beer pong had gathered a crew of spectators. Lara gave the small crowd her attention. An apparent champion had been crowned. Before she had time to continue her conversation Sam was already dragging her toward the table by her hand.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, some of you may have noticed that I've been referencing a fair bit of music in this story. If you feel like exploring the music referenced, here's a short list.
> 
> In Lara's room, with her laptop, Chelsea Wolfe's album The Abyss.  
> In the car Sam references first D.N.R. (Do Not Resuscitate) by Testament, and then the above, after Lara offers to play something mellow. They're also the band whose shirt Sam nicked from Lara.  
> Scarlett Johansson covering Tom Wait's song "Falling Down" is self explanatory. 
> 
> You can find all of these on Youtube, I'm sure at least a few of you will be glad to have checked them out.


	5. Unfair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Christmas party through Sam's eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to Sam, my new favourite Tumblr anon.

Sam pocketed her phone; Lara had given her a _ look. _ That meant no redo on the picture she'd taken. That was fine, the look had come between smiles, and she knew Lara never smiled on purpose. Sam saw that Alex had noticed, too. His eyes were completely trapped at the curled corners of Lara's lips, and she didn't seem to notice at all. Sam looked around herself, they were surrounded by people, and Lara's attention never strayed to any of them. Her smile wasn't for them, it was simply because Lara was happy.

She found herself wishing she had kept her phone in hand when the game ending shot was made at one of the beer pong tables. It had been pretty impressive, and judging by the shifting stance the short girl with the bob cut took upon winning, it had come from a place of alcohol induced zen.

Sam’s hands stung she clapped so hard, but it really was quite the shot. The girl raised her arms as the victor, and stepped away from the table to a round of applause and short cheers. Sam heard at least one person yell “Slayer!” from the back of the room and shook her head. That particular joke never seemed to die.

Without a second thought she took Lara by the hand, dragging her toward the table. Lara drifted after her without hesitation, even if when Sam did look at her over her shoulder her expression had become nervous.

“Sam, I don't know,” she began. Sam did know, though, and she flashed her most photogenic grin as she backed around the table to the other end. It worked, Lara silenced her protests and squared up with her hands on the corners of the table. “All right, then.”

They filled ten cups each, setting them in triangles on opposing ends of the table, and Sam held her fist out in a silent challenge to rock, paper, scissors. When Lara mirrored the gesture her expression was determined. Sam grinned back, Lara Croft was up to the challenge, that was what the expression told her. Even if it was a silly challenge.

They bounced their hands twice, and threw them on the third. Scissors on both counts. They made eye contact to communicate the draw, and Sam couldn't help herself, she wiggled her eyebrows.  “ _Sam!_ ” Lara mouthed in silent shock. It didn't take long for her composure to return, and with it a bored roll of the eyes so practiced it could have convinced anyone but Sam that it was authentic. In the end, the only hint of Lara's initial reaction was a light flush of her cheeks, which none of the small crowd around the table seemed to notice.

They refolded their hands and threw again. This time Lara threw rock, and Sam made a point of pouting when her roomie demonstrated the “rock smashes scissors” gesture.

“Your ball,” Sam leaned forward over the table while Lara picked the ball up from the center. Lara rolled the ball in her palm for a few moments, eyeballing the distance to the cups and looking between them and Sam. “You look like you're studying, it's beer, not history.” Competitive banter was one area she was sure she could best Lara. Hand eye coordination was not, but she was relying on experience, an advantage Lara didn't have.

The ball bounced off of the table's polished surface and directly into Sam's center cup. She stared down at the cup, mouthing a silent “oh,” and then back to Lara. Her friend wore an expression of self satisfaction so thorough that it looked out of place on her. “Your ball,” she echoed while Sam glared at her over the rim of her cup. She downed her beer, and readied her own shot with the wet ball.

It seemed that the tone of the game had been set. Sam's game was on point, but Lara had what must have either been the most infuriating run of beginner's luck imaginable, or just very good aim. Sam was not too proud to entertain the thought it might be the latter. The game took less than twenty minutes, and it didn't pass without drawing spectators. Each time Lara landed a shot, the crowd seemed to get larger, and the cheers just a bit more enthusiastic. She was the new girl, and she was making a good impression. Sam didn't lose by much, reducing Lara's count to two cups, but a loss was a loss. She chose to take it gracefully. Her light head and lighter mood helped.

“Well played,” she said, crossing the table to shake Lara's hand as though they'd shared a national competitive stage. Her mood seemed to be contagious, Lara accepted the shake, and gave her salute with her free hand to up the ante. The crowd ate it up.

“An honor.” Her grin was a bit loose, and hung crooked on her face. It seemed to Sam she wasn't the only one feeling light. She reached up to swat Lara's hand out of the salute, but resisted the urge to touch Lara's face.

“Guess that makes you the champ.” Sam busied her hand with pushing her hair behind her ear, so that she could see Lara more clearly. “Ready to defend your title?”

“Wot,” Lara stammered, looking around the table at the small group people spectating the table. “Sam, I couldn't-,” Sam lifted Lara's free arm toward the ceiling, ignoring the way Lara's brow knit together in concern.

“Take a shot at the belt!” Sam didn't even care that she'd probably just earned herself tea and dishes duty for days, the glare from Lara was entirely worth it.

A stout boy named Derek stepped to the opposite side of the table, Sam knew him from a previous party where he'd eaten a raw onion on a dare. Lara retook her place. She shot Sam a look, for a moment, but it didn't take long for her pride to get in the way of her sense. She and Derek threw hands at rock paper scissors. Lara took first ball.

Sam stepped back into the circle of familiar faces, placing herself neatly between Alex and Beth. “I heard you cheering her on, traitor,” she told Alex, channeling her best stern-Lara look. It seemed to work; he ducked into his shoulders.

“Is this really a good idea? She looks properly pissed as is,” Beth said from Sam's opposite side.

“Lara will be fine, she's tough,” Sam nodded her head knowingly. “It's Derek who we oughtta worry about. I think his pride's about to be wounded.”

“Ought we take bets?” Beth asked. Sam couldn't help herself, she accepted without a second thought.

“We ought,” she said. “Loser shoots rum with hot sauce.” Beth's eyebrows made a slow ascent along the slope of her forehead. The sound of plastic on wood drew all eyes back to the table. Lara's ball bounced just clear of Derek's cups.

“Done.” Sam folded her arms at Beth's acceptance; her faith in Lara was absolute. A little rum and sriracha was nothing against that.

Lara set her sights on the game, ball after ball was tossed, cups were emptied. It was close, but Lara was lagging just a bit behind. She looked to Sam frequently. For a bit of reassurance when she missed, during her drinks, or just to flash a celebratory grin when she landed a shot.

Cups were emptied, the song playing in the background changed. Bodies behind her cast shadows as they moved to the music. The game progressed; Lara looked her way less and less. Her concentration was absorbed entirely by the little white ball as it traveled back and forth across the table, she was absorbed by the challenge. Soon she had more cups left than Derek. Sam smiled at that, she hoped Beth had something hotter than sriracha in her fridge.

When the last cup was emptied Lara threw her arms over her head, and danced in place. Her shoulders were loose, her expression unguarded, Sam could feel her heart fluttering. Lara was the center of attention and owning it. That was rare. Not because Lara was awkward, or boring, but because she was private and solitary. Sam grinned to herself with pride over how Lara, her best friend Lara, could own an entire room if she chose to. She sighed to soothe the swelling in her chest and turned to look at Beth. The way her friend chewed on her cheek and scanned the floor with her eyes suggested she was not happy with Lara's victory.

“Up for a drink?” Sam asked, as snarkily as she could manage.

“I suppose I ought to be,” Beth said. Sam cocked her head to one side to give crooked nod as she moved past, leading her back through the gathering of dancing bodies to the bar where the rum had been left. Beth followed close behind. 

Sam unscrewed the cap from the rum with a practiced flourish that sent it flying across the bar, then poured shots of rum for each of them, raising the bottle high above their glasses as she poured. It was a trick she’d learned from Lara after weeks of pestering, and one she wasted no time in showing off. 

“Fancy,” Beth commented from beneath a perked brow. Sam gave her best faux curtsy in response. 

“Ought not have bet against Lara,” she said, before pointing to the fridge. “Hot sauce, dear.” She could swear she saw Beth scowl at her as she turned to fetch the offending condiment. By the time she’d returned Sam had already downed her own shot of rum and was pouring a second. 

“Impatient creature,” Beth said, dropping a bottle of Cambridge Chili Farm between them. “Go on, then. Ruin my night.” Sam uncapped the jar and complied. 

“Gladly.” The glob of hot sauce slid down the side of the shot glass and into the bottom like a wad of noxious pollution. Beth lifted her glass and regarded it as no less. 

“Cheers, then,” she said with narrowed eyes, and dumped the drink into her mouth. What ensued as a result was a fit of coughing and gagging that almost made Sam feel guilty. Almost. Eventually Beth reigned in her baser instincts and kept the hot sauce contained. Sam raised a flattened palm in offering of a high five. 

“Truce?” Beth glared daggers in response. “Yep, truce,” she replied to herself, thoroughly satisfied. As she was patting herself on the back for her own social grace someone took hold of her hand. Lara stepped right in between the two, with her back to Beth, and grasped Sam’s other hand as well. 

“There you are!” Lara said enthusiastically and while swaying just a little bit to the left. Sam could see Beth’s eyebrow jump from over Lara’s shoulder, and she offered her friend an apologetic smile.

“Yep, just celebrating your glorious triumph with Beth,” Sam would’ve made finger guns at the scowl she received from behind Lara, but she didn’t want to let go of Lara’s hands, so she settled for making clicking noises in her throat and returning the cocked brow. 

“Oh,” Lara said. At length, she released one of Sam’s hands so that she could turn to face Beth as well. “Right, very sorry.”

“It’s Sam who ought be sorry.” Beth took a long moment to stare pointed hatred at the shotglass which still contained an oily smear. “Ugh,” she groaned.

“You accepted the bet!” Sam took her hand from Lara so that she could cross her arms and give Beth a look. 

“A lesson learned,” Beth admitted, Sam could see that though Beth was facing her, her eyes kept darting to the side, toward Lara. “I’m going to dance off that rancid shot,” she said, and made her exit. 

When Sam turned to Lara again she could see her kneading her empty hands together and chewing her lip with a look of disorientation on her face. 

“Are you okay?” For just a moment Sam wondered. She felt guilty, even, for leaving Lara alone. Afterall, she didn’t know many people there, did she?

“Fine, really,” Lara said quickly, but quietly. “I just saw you over here with Beth, and I thought I’d come say hello.” It was then that Sam saw  _ her _ eyes doing the same thing Beth’s had done; they were darting from Sam’s face to one side. One side and above. Sam turned to look. When she turned back around the tips of Lara’s ears were burning, and her cheeks were flush. There, behind Sam, hanging from the ceiling near the bar by a silver string, was the mistletoe.

It was such an absurd thought that Sam spluttered it out loud, “you’re  _ jealous?”  _ Lara’s eyes went wide. Very wide, but they never moved to anyone but Sam. Her mouth opened, and she formed the beginnings of a few words, but none ever took a full or coherent form. In the end Lara gave a meek nod. Sam reached up to gently shift Lara’s messy bangs, they moved right back into place, but the gesture was meant for the touch, anyway. “You’re a silly drunk, you know that?” Sam felt her heart beating harder. Lara only nodded again. 

For a moment, Sam almost dragged Lara the few steps it would’ve taken to place them under the mistletoe, but she realized that she couldn’t. She looked at the floor, her heart slowed again, and she felt somehow less than she had a moment before, when she’d realized Lara was jealous. 

Just as she had before, Sam packed that away, replaced her smile where it had been, and did her best to be strong and happy for her friend. And, just as before, it had been too late. Lara had seen it. A tentative hand landed on the bar, and crawled toward Sam on its fingertips. Lara’s eyes focused on her; the beating of her heart felt like it had weight and warmth, melting the frost that had formed inside her ribcage. 

“Sam,” Lara asked gently, “I’m being unfair, aren’t I?” Sam slid her own hand forward on the bar to tangle with Lara’s while she considered her response. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LITERALLY A YEAR LATE. 
> 
> Merry Christmas, everyone. The finale will come after Christmas, sadly. Much to do.


End file.
